Bring Me Home
by Scorpiofreak
Summary: "When you do something by accident, you're never yourself when it happens, not really. But doing something on purpose always exposes parts of yourself that you never knew existed, and it's not always pretty." Elsa is lost in foreign wilderness and hunted down. Only two years following the Great Freeze, how does she measure up to criminals with a lifetime of sin under their belts?
1. Elsa Escapes

**AN: Honestly, I'm not an avid Frozen fan, but for whatever reason, this idea popped into my head one day and much like a lot of my stories, I decided to write it out for fun. ****I know OC's are always a loaded path to take when writing a story, and I know that this section is probably full of bad ones (not entirely sure, haven't read that many Frozen fanfics I'm afraid), but let's see if I can do any better, shall we?**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (1/19/16)**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or its characters. **

* * *

_Conceal. Don't feel. Conceal. Don't feel._

Her lifelong mantra.

It never really worked for her then, and it most certainly wasn't going to work for her now.

With her pulse pounding loudly in her ears and her breath coming out in quick, frantic pants, Queen Elsa of Arendelle continued to run as fast as her legs could carry her through the dark forest. She moved through the trees and thick foliage without so much as an inkling of which way would lead her to safety while trying desperately to avoid tripping over a protruding root, or colliding blindly into a tree.

Afraid and panicked, Elsa was running only on instinct. No ice powers, no thoughts, and no emotions other than uncontrollable fear. Running purely on that fight-or-flight instinct. Almost like coronation day, but only a hundred times more terrifying. How unbelievably foolish of her to believe then that she was running for her life. If she had the power to go back in time, she would slap that newly appointed queen across her spoiled face for not realizing sooner how wrong she had been. How truly worse things could have gone for her.

_This_ was what it felt like to be running for your life. Mad dashing through an unknown forest without a single clue as to where safety was, on a moonless night, after miraculously escaping a pack of dangerous bandits who could notice her absence at any moment and immediately come looking for her.

Elsa's legs were screaming in protest at the sudden unrelenting strain she was putting them through. There had been no proper way for her to prepare them for the unexpected escape. She spent nearly a week doing nothing but curling up in a corner of a small dungeon cell and dreading the day when her captors finally decided to do whatever it was they planned to do with her. And admittedly, Elsa wasn't very physically inclined to begin with, other than the snowball fights she had with Anna and her practice sessions with her powers. There had also been the great freeze on Arendelle, but she didn't exactly have the prospect of pursing bandits dogging her heels to help spur her on at the time. Nobody but Anna had followed her after she had fled from her kingdom. She was a royal, a queen. She was trained to run a kingdom, not soldier through harsh conditions and physical situations that would have even someone like Kristoff huffing and puffing.

It also wasn't a comfort to know that any use of her powers would be an extremely bad idea. Not only was there the possibility of accidentally scaring off any potential help with her "witchcraft", but the bandits were aware of what she could do. Any signs of random placed ice in the snowless forest would be an obvious trail the bandits could use to track her down. It was by sheer luck that Elsa managed to escape the first time. She doubted a second attempt would be possible should this one fail.

The man posted as Elsa's cell guard that evening had been someone she was unfortunately acquainted with beforehand, not only having been present during the bandits' raid on her kingdom and her kidnapping, but also having been posted as her guard a few times before. She was able to easily distinguish _him_ from the other foul-smelling, yellow-toothed brutes just by his disgusting voice. It made the queen want to retch every time she heard it. This particular scoundrel had made it his favorite hobby to verbally harass Elsa every chance he got.

Whenever his heavy footfalls lumbered down the rickety staircase, towards the single chair set up outside the door of Elsa's cell, she could always trust that he would sit down in that chair with a heavy grunt, always holding an unlabeled bottle tightly in his hand with a hooded gaze that would lock on Elsa's balled up form in the corner of her cell. From there, he would proceed to tell her all the disgusting, unspeakable things he would do to her if "The Boss" would let him, and he said it all with as much vivid detail as possible to make her situation even more unbearable than it was before.

The first time he was posted as her guard, which also happened to be her first night in her cell, she had been completely dumbfounded at the man's repulsive words. Being of royal blood and heir to the Arendelle throne, Elsa had obviously _never_ been spoken to in such a vulgar manner. Needless to say, it was more than a little shocking when the man suddenly started speaking of removing her clothing and "marking up her pretty silk skin".

It lost its stun factor after the third time. She had gotten used to the abuse and learned to ignore it, much to the bandit's chagrin. Several times he attempted to remedy this by upping the sickening details, but Elsa spent her whole life shutting out people. Once his words ran their course, he was no match for her indifference. Instead of disgust being written blatantly across her face, Elsa would just bring her hands up to cover her ears and sing softly to herself as she moved her body in a way where she wouldn't have to see the thug's ugly face peering in through the cell bars.

He had never tried to act on his disgusting words, never had the courage to go against "The Boss and his orders" until the night of her escape, but even then Elsa couldn't say with a hundred percent certainty what his exact intentions were. She could only assume they meant pain and suffering for her with the way the thug stared at her with a heated look that would surely haunt the queen's nightmares for years to come. It wouldn't take a genius to guess that she was in trouble.

However, for whatever reason there was explaining why Elsa's lifelong streak of bad luck suddenly decided to give her a break, all the bottles of alcohol the thug had consumed during that night chose to hit him moments before he could turn the key. Her face curled up in disgust as she shut her eyes and covered her nose when the thug doubled over sluggishly and vomited all over the stone floor, slurring indistinctly before passing out in the pile of his own mess with the cell key still embedded in the lock.

It took several seconds for her brain to kickstart itself again, completely thrown by what happened. When it finally stopped stalling, the queen pulled herself to her feet as fast as her stiff limbs would allow, and practically dove for the cell door. She made quick work of the lock and ran out of the dungeon without a single look back.

Luck continued to be on her side when she ran up the staircase and discovered there were no other men guarding the shack-like entrance to the dungeon. After she slipped her way out of that, it was nothing but running. The dungeon appeared to be separate from the bandits' main hideout. It was too dark to see anything distinctive around her, but there was a large cabin a few yards away with bright lights and shouting voices coming from within. She chose to run in the opposite direction.

Her whole body ached painfully at the abuse she was putting it through. Her ragged breathing was wearing thin on the adrenaline that ceased to course through her veins until she was eventually forced to slow down.

"Alright, that's far enough for now." The exhausted queen panted softly to herself in her scratchy, under-used voice as she finally allowed herself to fall to her knees. There was a sharp sting in her already aching kneecaps when they hit the forest floor, but she was beyond caring. "Need to rest."

The chill that blew through the night helped cleanse the smog of despair and fear that hung over her head like Olaf's flurry cloud. The sudden release almost made her sob.

As she slowly lowered her body to the ground and curled into a ball, Elsa marveled at how long and how far she was able to push herself. Her captors spared no opportunity to keep her weakened and submissive while she was trapped in her cell. The food they served her was barely edible, the water was never clean and always had a funny smell to it, every inch of her cell was covered in grime including the ground she slept on, and she has been wearing the same dress for almost a week.

Fortunately, it was one of her more modest dresses and not anything that would "tempt" the brutish band of thugs holding her captive like, heaven forbid, her ice dress. And to think, she had almost worn it that day. If it hadn't been for the fact that the celebration being held the day of her kidnapping was her little sister's _wedding_, than she would have.

She curled further into herself as the dead grass and dirt around her slowly became coated with glistening frost, not even caring if the haphazard circle would later be used to track her when the bandits finally caught up. The coldness of the ice mixed with the crisp chill of the early Winter night comforted Elsa in ways she never imagined it would. Although the cold never affected her physically in any harmful way, it always served as a constant reminder of her self-isolation during those years she spent cowering behind her bedroom door.

Now, the queen reveled in the feel of it. She greedily soaked up every numbing sensation it had to offer because it felt like freedom again. Just like when she fled from her coronation ball in favor of the North mountain that would later house her ice castle, but only ten times sweeter. The openness off the air around her helped banish the claustrophobic hold that had gripped her within the rusted bars of her cell. The fresh scent of pine and dirt helped rid her senses of the sour smell of filth that caked the moldy walls of the dungeon. And the blessed coldness banished the choking humidity that blanketed the underground room, making it nearly impossible for Elsa to use her ice powers even if she wanted to.

She never tried. She never even gave the idea a second thought after the threat the lead bandit had made to her when she finally gained consciousness again after being knocked out when she was kidnapped.

Elsa hadn't been able to conjure up a decent image of the bandit leader's face due to the fact that her mind had still been sluggish after her slow climb back into the waking world, but it wouldn't have mattered much anyway. The leader had been wearing a blood red hood over his head and a matching scarf around the lower half of his face.

The hooded man's threat still rang clear as a bell.

_'If I see so much as a sliver ice come from you, I will personally go back to Arendelle, slice open the throats of your sister and brother-in-law, murder every single servant in your castle, and burn your whole goddamn kingdom to the ground. Then, I'll come back and deal with_ you.'

She remembered every syllable the man said, every note in his unwavering voice, and the sadistic glint in his eyes that shined when he spoke of burning her kingdom down. She remembered the fear she felt for Anna and Kristoff's safety and how the bandit forced her to see the truth behind his horrifying words when he twisted his fingers into her blonde hair. He yanked painfully on it with such an unrelenting hold, Elsa thought he was going to rip the pale strands right out of her scalp. His cold, dead eyes bore into hers with complete seriousness, just _daring_ her to test him.

If Elsa ever had more of a reason to "Conceal, don't feel", then that would most definitely be it.

The fear from the bandit leader's threat still weighed heavily on her heart. She knew her escape attempt would cost her dearly if she didn't find help soon. She needed to rest more than anything right now. There was no way she would successfully escape her captors if she kept pushing herself without stopping, no matter how much she wanted to be back home in her kingdom, with Anna.

This was _not_ how things were supposed to go. This was not how she pictured Anna's wedding in her head, the ceremony or the aftermath. She was supposed to be standing off to the side of an altar, watching proudly as her beautiful little sister was joined together with the wonderful man she loved. The man who helped Anna on her journey and ultimately ended up saving the lives of both sisters.

How had the happy festivities diverted so tragically off course without even a single warning?

She thought back to the day before the wedding. The last time she remembered feeling relaxed and content, sharing a close moment with her sister before facing the onslaught of last-minute wedding preparations and the unexpected events that would follow.

~O~

_For all the sadness and grief Elsa had ever caused her, it only seemed natural for the queen to allow Anna to wear their mother's old wedding dress on her big day. _

_Expectations would have had the precious garment saved for the day Elsa finally chose a king to rule by her side, but they weren't _her_ expectations and she didn't think twice about venturing into their parent's long-empty bedroom and retrieving the dress from the back of their closet. __The dazzling smile Anna gave her when Elsa revealed her surprise and presented the dress was an image the queen will never let herself forget._

_"Elsa! You can't be doing what I think you're doing!"_

_"Oh but I am," Elsa smiled at the giddy redhead before prompting Anna to take the dress from her arms. "Go try it on. We need to make sure it fits before the ceremony tomorrow."_

_Anna looked down at the lacey white material of their mother's dress with unrestrained glee. Practically bouncing in place, the beaming princess snatched up the dress as gently as she could in her excitement before speeding off to the other side of her bedroom and disappearing into the closet. __Elsa flinch when she heard a loud crash and a surprised yelp from within the closet._

_"Be careful, Anna!" She called out. "Don't make a mess!"_

_"I am and I won't!" Anna called back, her voice a little muffled. "It's all good! I just knocked over some boxes!"_

_"Do you need any help?" _

_"No, no! I got it! I'll be out in a minute!"_

_Elsa chuckled softly when she heard another crash and a soft curse come from the closet. She took a seat on the edge of Anna's bed, waiting patiently until she came back out with the dress on. When she finally did, Anna walked slowly from the closet, staring down at the dress that graced her body and marveled the sheer beauty of it, all sheer lace and pristine silk. She looked up at her sister with tearful eyes as she tried to keep herself from whimpering._

_"It's perfect."_

_"Yes, it is," Elsa smiled proudly, watching as the hyperactive woman quickly made her way over to her bedroom mirror to model the dress. "How does it fit?"_

_Anna picked up two handfuls of the dress skirt and gave Elsa a flashy twirl, causing it to flare out stunningly. The small beaded sequins carefully woven into the fabric reflected of the light in the bedroom, making the whole thing sparkle. _

_"Perfect! It fits like a glove!"_

_Elsa laced her fingers together in front her and regarded her sister with a soft look of approval. "Wonderful, we won't have to make any adjustments then."_

_Anna barely registered Elsa's words as she continued to watch herself in the mirror. She swished the skirt of the white dress back and forth, simply in awe at how beautiful the dress made her look and feel. Of course nobody could look more beautiful in it than their mother, but Anna felt confident enough to admit inside the privacy of own her head that she made a pretty decent runner-up. She just loved watching herself twirl in the mirror. The way the cream colored underskirt curled around her legs was utterly gorgeous and hypnotic._

_Elsa looked in on the sight with deep fondness. Admittedly, she felt guilty that she wasn't completely in the moment. Her heart was, fully and truly, but her mind was a little preoccupied. It was a great relief for the queen to hear that the dress fit. She had been stressing about that for weeks now. When planning such a joyful, important event, Elsa wanted to be three steps ahead of everything so she could minimize the chances of something problematic happening, like the wedding dress not fitting the bride. But at the same time, she wanted her gift to Anna to be a last-minute surprise. She remedied this by having the royal tailor on standby outside in the hallway._

_The queen made a mental note among dozens of other mental notes to inform the tailor that his services wouldn't be needed for the bride. She then made another mental note to make sure they wouldn't be needed for the groom as well, but that could wait until later._

_"Thank you again for letting me wear mama's dress," Anna smiled bashfully at Elsa through the mirror, bringing the queen from her thoughts before they had a chance to veer off into endless tangents. "I know tradition says that this is supposed to be an honor meant for the eldest daughter, w-which is you of course, but-"_

_She held up a hand to silence her. "Forget the tradition, Anna. I'm not going to be wearing it anytime soon and you look absolutely beautiful in it."_

_"Thanks," Her shoulders rolled up to her ears and a light pink blush spread across the bridge of her freckled nose. "What are you going to wear?"_

_"The blue dress I have hanging on my wardrobe door," Elsa replied absentmindedly as she start rifling through the dress box laying on Anna's bed for the accessories that went along with the dress._

_Anna knotted her brow in thought, thinking back while her sister fished out the wispy veil and sparkly tiara that went with her dress. It took her a few minutes to remember which dress she was talking about, and when she finally did her nose twisted up a little. _

_The dress hanging on Elsa's closet door had been remarkably plain, especially compared to her other dresses. It consisted of a black bodice and a blue skirt with silver designs on the front of her chest and bottom of the skirt. The trimming on the bodice matched the rosemaling designs and the sleeves were respectfully thin. They would hang loosely off Elsa's exposed shoulders and leave her arms bare, but it would still display a sense of modesty and tastefulness that was expected of a queen._

_"But that one is so...plain," Anna trailed off. "Everybody's supposed to go all out on weddings! You have much prettier dresses than that in your wardrobe."_

_"Yes, more than I will ever have a chance to wear in one lifetime, but it's not my job to look stunning and radiant tomorrow. It's yours."_

_"But..."_

_"Tomorrow is your day," Elsa cut in, reminding her. "Much like the flowers and lights, I'll just be a background decoration."_

_Anna gasped. "Don't talk like that, Elsa! You're one of the most important people in the whole world! I could never have a wedding that didn't include you!"_

_She laughed, holding up a hand. "I just meant that most of the attention will be on you and Kristoff instead of me for once, so don't worry. It'll be a welcomed reprieve."_

_The two sisters shared a laugh. They smiled brightly at each other until Anna looked down at her dress again and let out a soft sigh._

_"Well, I'm glad the wedding dress issue has been solved. I was starting to get a little worried when the tailor only started fitting Kristoff for his suit. But there's still one big problem we're overlooking though."_

_"Oh? __And what's that?"_

_"If I'm wearing mama's dress on my wedding day, what are YOU going to wear on your wedding day?"_

_Elsa halted her search for the veil and tiara and looked up at her sister with a funny look on her face. "What am I going to what on my what day?"_

_"You heard what I said! Stop pretending," Anna laughed. "W__e can't both wear the same dress. I mean, we _could_ do that, but that would be kinda silly. We would have to make you a brand new dress. We could make with lace and silk like mine, and make a different color. Be a little daring with it, because who's going to say no to the queen? Maybe make it a nice ice blue color with a pleated skirt and - Oh! You could make with your powers!"_

_Elsa let out a genuine laugh at her sister's ramblings, bringing a hand up near her mouth and letting her shoulders shake freely before stopping short when she saw Anna's face and realized she was being serious. She gave her an exasperated look and frowned. Leave it to Anna to be so hopelessly optimistic._

_"Oh Anna, I don't think that's something we're ever going to have to worry about." _

_It was a sad thing to admit, but Elsa felt her heart go out more to the crestfallen look on Anna's face than the very likely possibility that she was fated to rule her kingdom alone. It wasn't something she spent a lot of time worrying about because she honestly didn't care. Whether she ruled alone or with a king, it didn't matter to her just as long as her kingdom was being taken care of and she was given time to properly adjust to any changes. She avoided letting things overwhelm her like the plague these days._

_"Well, not with that attitude we won't!" Anna proclaimed with a huff. She put her hands on her hips and shook her head with disapproval. "You need to start thinking more positively."_

_"Anna..." Elsa started before letting out a sigh. "Let's not talk about this. This is your time. We deal with your problems for right now, not mine. Now turn around, let's see how this dress looks when it's correctly fastened up."_

_Anna reluctantly did as she was told and turned around, giving Elsa access to the ribbons that ran along the back of the dress. "So does that mean we can talk about it _after_ the wedding?"_

_"No," Elsa replied, dragging the word out as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her hands reached up and began to work at the bindings of the dress, occasionally pulling a little harder than necessary in her annoyance. "I rather not talk about it ever, if it's all the same to you."_

_"But-"_

_"No buts."_

_Flinching slightly at her sister's sharp tone, Anna watched Elsa work quietly through the mirror._

_"There's hope for everybody, you know."_

_Elsa's eyes flickered up from her task. "Excuse me?"_

_"If there's somebody out there for a total train wreck like me, than there's definitely someone out there for you."_

_"Anna, I know the whole finding one's "soul mate" is your thing, but please keep in mind it isn't for everybody, okay? I've got more important things to worry about right now than dating. Heaven knows it'll be a dark day when the Arendelle council finally brings it up."_

_"Oh whatever," Anna sighed wistfully, squirming when Elsa pulled a ribbon too tight. "I just love you to bits, that's all!"_

_"I know you do and I love you too," Elsa smiled warmly at her sister before looking back down at her hands. "Now stop fidgeting! We need to get this done!"_

_"Okay, okay!" Anna whined loudly before laughing. "I just want you to be happy! Is that so wrong?"_

_"I am happy, Anna."_

_She looked over her shoulder at her sister with a hopeful smile. "The happiest?"_

_Elsa nodded as she picked up the tiara and veil from the ground next to their feet and placed it on top of Anna's head. She adjusted the tiara until it was perfect and gently smoothed out the long veil so it flared out behind Anna. The queen then handed her sister the long, white arm sleeves that went along with the dress and waited for Anna slipped them on._

_With Anna's wedding outfit more or less complete with exception of her hair and jewelry, Elsa smiled proudly again at the young bride in the mirror before reaching up and wrapping her arms around Anna's shoulders from behind in a warm hug._

_"The happiest," She promised._

~O~

Elsa was pulled from her memories by a faint sound coming from behind her, far in the distance but steadily growing louder. She quickly sat up and focused all her attention on her surroundings.

At first, there was nothing. Not even the sound of the wind blowing through the bare trees. Everything was dead quiet until she heard it again. The sound of-

Dogs.

A lead ball of panic dropped in Elsa's stomach when she recognized the approaching sound of barking dogs.

_'No, no, no! They've noticed that I've escaped!'_

Elsa climbed stiffly to her feet and gathered up the front of her dress before breaking out into another run. Her legs screamed in protest, but she ignored them and kept pushing forward. She still had no idea where she was going. It was too dark and hopelessness clung to her skin like a disease as she ran. No matter how bleak the path ahead looked, she knew it was a thousand times better than what was waiting for her back at the bandits' hideout. She kept the terrifying thought well in mind as she continued to run with every ounce of strength still left inside her body.

It wasn't enough though, she knew that. Why wasn't it ever enough?

She could hear the dogs getting closer as she fled. She risked a quick look back and felt her panic skyrocket when she saw the faint glow of torches in the distance. The small balls of ominous lighting were drawing just as close as the barking dogs were. Elsa could feel the familiar sensation of ice dancing along her fingertips as her fear increased and she had to stifle a whimper. She prayed that she wasn't leaving behind a path of icy footsteps on the forest floor.

_'No! Not now! Don't do this to me now! They'll see it and they'll know! I need to get help, I need to get home, I need to-'_

Elsa let out a startled cry when the ground suddenly disappeared from underneath her feet and she found herself plummeting downwards. She felt the air leave her lungs as she barreled down a slope of loose dirt and small rocks, her body rolling over itself like a snowball rolling down a hill. For several seconds her world spun until it came to a sudden stop and she landed in a pile of dead leaves at the base of a large cluster of trees.

Battered and bruised, the young queen laid sprawled out on her back among the orange and red leaves. She coughed hard as her body struggled to recover from its fall, greedily sucking in mouthfuls of crisp air back into her aching lungs. From the top of the slope she had just fallen down, Elsa could hear the barks and howls of the dogs passing over where she lay motionless on the forest floor. She let out a soft sob of relief when the light from the torches and the shouts from the bandits passed her by too. Her sudden topple and roll through the dirt must have helped thrown the dogs off course.

She knew it wouldn't last long. Once the dogs picked up her change in direction and the bandits realized her trail had gone cold, they would backtrack.

However, despite knowing this, she couldn't find the strength within her to pick herself up and keep running. Her fall had been the final straw. She was officially spent. She couldn't move even if her life depended on it, which in this case it very well did. She probably couldn't even move if the snarling muzzles of the bandits' mutts were inches from her face.

She continued to lay on the ground, blinking slowly up at the cloudy sky and absently tracing the faint outline of the moon with her half-lidded eyes. The sounds of her pursuers faded further and further in the distance until there was nothing but the sounds of a running stream a few yards to her right, and leaves scrapping against the ground as a cold wind swept through the forest.

As Elsa laid half buried under the pile of leaves, her mind flashed back to the very beginning of this nightmare. The day of Anna and Kristoff's wedding, just after they exchanged their heartfelt vows. The bandits came out of nowhere, with absolutely no warning. The wedding ceremony was held in the garden of the kingdom instead of the church, as Anna requested only moments after being proposed to months earlier. She wanted to make the best of the good weather before Winter settled in. The bandits seemed to rain down from the top of the castle and glide unnaturally over the high hedge walls of the garden. No one was prepared for the attack and a widespread panic broke out among the guests. They had scattered like scared hens as the bandits begun their raid.

Elsa felt her heart hitch painfully in her throat when she remembered the last time she saw Anna. When the chaos broke out, the royals at the altar dashed for safety with Kristoff and Sven in the lead. They knocked back any attacking bandits that blocked their path with broad shoulders and antlers while the queen and princess trailed closely behind. They were still far off from their exit when Anna suddenly tripped over the bottom of their mother's wedding dress, her life-long clumsiness rearing its ugly head at the most inopportune moment of all time.

The leader of the bandits went straight for the queen, taking full advantage of her distracted state and cutting down any guards that got in his way. Elsa had been too focused on ushering Anna and Olaf towards the garden entrance of the kingdom to realize that someone was coming up behind her. She felt an explosion of pain erupt in the back of her skull and spots flooded her vision as she fell to the ground like a sack of bricks. She tried to move her arms and legs, but they felt heavier than lead. The last thing she remembered seeing before blacking out was the terrified face of her sister as she struggled against the hold Kristoff had around her waist, fighting like a wild animal while screaming Elsa's name and reaching out desperately with a hand that only grasped air. The ice harvester shot Elsa a helpless look as he continued to haul the struggling princess back into the safety of the castle.

Now, laying in a dark forest miles away from her home and sister, Elsa could see the familiar blackness eating away at the corners of her vision. She remembered sending a silent prayer above to whomever may be willing to listen that Anna would remain safe until Elsa found her way home again. She also prayed that the bandit leader wouldn't get the chance to make good on his promise to the ice queen.

After that, Elsa remembered nothing.

* * *

**AN: Alrighty then, I hoped you enjoyed reading. At the moment, I'm not sure yet whether I'm going to make a full-length story out of this. I don't even know if this will even go anywhere. If by some strange chance that it does and I get a lot of positive feedback, then I'll continue. ****So, if you enjoyed reading my story, then please leave a review letting me know and we'll see where this takes us.**

**Oh, and just in case you were wondering, the part in the flashback where the sisters talk about Elsa getting married - that wasn't half-assed foreshadowing. Anna would legitimately ask that question and they would legitimately have that conversation. **

**Sorry for any mistakes in the text. If you come across one, let me know in a review and I'll fix it!**

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	2. Tobias and Lollie

**AN: Sorry for the delay! Computer troubles. Thanks for all the reviews and feedback! To the readers with accounts and active PM features, I replied to them personally and gave thanks, but to all you Anons out there, I'm so glad you took the time to leave me a review! It means a lot to me! **

**So, since this story hasn't turned into a big flop just yet, I decided to post another chapter. Hopefully it'll continue to keep your interest and bring in more readers.**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (1/20/16)**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or any of its characters.**

* * *

Elsa snapped back into consciousness with a gasp.

The leaves and dead twigs that collected around her were tossed up into the air when the top half of Elsa's body sprung up in sudden alertness. Her aching chest heaved as she panted, unable to discern where she was. Her eyes were wide and nearly popping out of her head as they blindly scanned her surroundings, not truly seeing anything and processing nothing in her shock.

The dry leaves floated down around her, collecting in her blonde hair and falling into her lap. For a moment, she watched a lone, yellow leaf twirl and spin with a soft wisp of air before it slowly floated down, inches from her face. Her blue eyes blinked with confusion, having no idea where she was and how she got there. When the leaf faintly brushed along the tip of Elsa's nose, the foreign sensation sliced through the fog in her mind, causing her to reel backwards out of the pile of leaves scattered around her.

She scrambled across the ground on her bottom with her legs kicking frantically until her back hit the trunk of the tree behind her. She let out another gasp and looked up at the bare trees towering above her with their jagged branches looking like ominous claws reaching out for flesh in her disoriented panic. Her body was still poised in the heat of the moment, but her mind lagged three steps behind as the memory of her escape flashed behind her eyes. Her body urged her to run from danger that wasn't there. She tore away from the trees as fast as she could, leaving behind a burst of frost that coated the tree and ground.

In her haste, she had forgotten to hick up the skirt of her dress. The filthy blue material snagged beneath her shoes and she stumbled forward with her hands moving out in front of her, cushioning the impact when she lost her balance and fell flat on her stomach.

For a moment, Elsa laid on the ground, panting heavily. Her body went limp with defeat and her head turned to the side so she wouldn't inhale the dirt that puffed up around her when she fell. She just laid there, her brain processing and her body trembling. When the adrenaline started winding down again, the sounds of the forest reached her ears. She heard the sound of a running water. It was a welcoming sound that prompted her to raise her head with a small groan. Her eyes landed on a small stream a few feet ahead of her.

The sight of the stream reminded Elsa instantly how bone-dry her mouth and throat were. She would've literally jumped at the chance to finally have a drink of fresh water, but since her body still felt heavy as lead, she lifted her body up with trembling arms and slowly crawled her way towards the babbling brook. When she was close enough to dip her hands into the cool water, she did so quickly to avoid accidentally freezing it solid.

The water tasted like heaven as she drank handfuls of it as quickly as she could without making herself sick. She drank until the dryness in her mouth was soothed and her lungs screamed for air. There was a significant boost in her morale once she had her fill, and for a moment, everything didn't seem as bad as it did only a few moments ago...

Until she caught sight of her reflection in the water and discovered she looked like a walking disaster.

The whites of her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, the red clashing unpleasantly with the ice blue. There were dark bags underneath her eyes from the lack of sleep she suffered during her imprisonment. The pale skin of her face was covered in a thin layer of grime along with her hands and fingernails. Her pink lips were dry and chapped. Her platinum blonde hair could only be described as a rat's nest, an out of control lump that would take hours to tame. The elegant, braided up-do she had it styled in for Anna's wedding became more undone and unkempt throughout her stint in captivity, but now it was completely free of all ribbons and bindings. It was a mass of tangles and knots with the shorter strands up near her face sticking out at odd angles.

There was almost no resemblance to the delicate, regal figure that always greeted Elsa through her bedroom vanity mirror. Under any other, more _normal,_ circumstances, the snow queen might have relished in the idea, but right now it only made her eyes water as she brought a hand up towards her mouth to hold back a broken sob.

Suddenly frantic again, the queen dunked her hands into the stream and brought up handfuls of water to splash her face with. She was desperate to get the filth off. Desperate to make her appearance reflect some facet of her old self again. Desperate to wash away the memories of Anna's crashed wedding, her own kidnapping, the bandit leader's threat on her sister's life, the possibility he was on his way to Arendelle _right now_ to fulfill that threat, and just the past week in its entirety.

She only managed to get most of the dirt off her face and pat down her hair so it hung limp in unwashed strands before her hysteria finally caused a physical reaction and frost erupted around her wrists where she had them submerged in the water. In seconds, the surface of the stream clouded over with a solid layer of jagged ice. Elsa pulled away with a gasp and quickly tore her hands out of the water before the ice could harden. She watched with wide eyes as the ice spread along the entire stream.

The queen gathered the skirt of her dress in her hands and hiked the ends up so she could hop over the frozen stream. She ran for as long as she could without exhausting herself further until she eventually slowed down to a brisk walk. Her eyes trailed nervously along the path in front of her. The forest was silent and empty, there was nobody there but her. Just poor little Elsa and her racing thoughts.

One foot in front of the other, she told herself. That was the only thing she decided to focus on, everything else could wait. Just putting one foot in front of the other. If she did that enough, she was bound to come across a house or a town sooner or later, somewhere she could find help and maybe a nice place to sit down and rest for a while.

She walked until she saw a light in the distance. It was impossible to miss among the bare trees and dark shadows of the late night. Her breath hitched at the sight and her feet moved faster, bringing her closer to the little light that slowly grew bigger the closer she got until she was able to make out a large cabin. She gasped at her discovery, unsure whether to keep moving or let herself fall to her knees and cry. She chose to do the former, but only until reality set in again and she stopped dead in her tracks among the cluster of trees surrounding the cabin's yard.

Hope blossomed anew when Elsa first saw the cabin, but now that she thought about it, she realized she had no idea who lived in that cabin. Of course she hoped it would be someone who could help her, someone who could provide sanctuary from the possibly still pursuing bandits, but that was just an assumption. Was she really in a position to assume anything right now?

On the one hand, the forest seemed to be endless with a scarce amount of foliage for her to hide within should the bandits and their mutts pick up on her trail again. This could be her one and only chance to get help and elude capture again. She could very well be _miles_ away from the nearest town. But on the other hand, the inhabitants of the cabin could be just as dangerous as the bandits she was running from. By seeking their help, there was about a fifty-fifty chance she could just be trading one set of abusers for another.

It was a tough decision with the crux of the problem being that she wouldn't know if she made the right choice until she knocked on the door.

However, before her mind could drift off into another repetitive circle of thought on all the different ways something like that could blow up in her face, the sound of clopping hooves and an approaching carriage pulled Elsa's attention away from the cabin. She looked towards the opposite end of the property where another glowing light moved along the well-traveled path leading towards the cabin. Her eyes widened at the flickering firelight, seemingly hypnotized by it as a horse pulling a wagon full of hay came into view. The queen shook herself from her stupor and ducked behind a nearby tree.

When the wagon came to a stop on the edges of the cabin's yard, the glowing lantern moved from the front to the side as a man climbed down with an audible grunt. From where Elsa lurked, she could see he was an older gentleman. He stood tall and sturdy with long, silver-white hair, pulled back from his eyes and tied into a ponytail at the base of his neck. A short beard grew along the bottom half of his face while his slightly hunched over, but still imposing, form was clad in a long, wool coat.

He brought a hand up to his mouth and let out a whistle through his fingers. Immediately, the sound was followed by a bark that rang out loudly through the silent night. Elsa cringed, her mind already taking on a bad association to the sound.

A dog popped up from within the pile of hay and jumped down to answer its master's call. It was one of those sheep herding dogs with white and cream-colored fur. It moved around the man's legs gleefully with its barks high-pitched and its tail wagging, but he ignored his pet's pleas for late night playtime as he stepped around it and moved towards the horse hooked up to the wagon. He set the lantern down on the ground and worked on undoing the horse's reigns.

When the questionable pair fell into silence with the man working and the dog laying down to wait, Elsa decided to move out from behind her tree and inch a little closer to them, feeling the need to do something other than stare vacantly from the shadows and wait for a miracle to fall into her lap.

She tried her best to stay as quiet as possible, but stealth wasn't one of the lessons Elsa had shoved down her throat as a child. True, she was a lot more inconspicuous than Anna, whose clumsy footfalls could be heard from miles away, but even Elsa knew she made a stupid mistake by focusing too much on the man and his dog, and not enough on where she was stepping. She let out a quiet gasp when a dry twig snapped underneath her foot.

At the sound of the snapping twig, the man abruptly stopped tugging on the horse's bindings while the his collie's ears perked up in attention. It raised its black nose into the air and sniffed before turning its head in Elsa's direction and growling. Cursing her foolishness, the queen quickly dipped behind another tree. The man looked over his shoulder and picked up his lantern, his eyes scanning the dark forest around them. When his dog's growls turned into barks, he unbuttoned his coat and pulled back one side to reveal a small hatchet hanging on his leather belt. He pulled it from its loop and raised it up in defense.

"Who's there?" He called out, his voice deep and slightly hoarse from age.

Elsa stood rooted in her spot behind the tree with her back pressed against the trunk. She shut her eyes tight as the dog's barks continued. She debated whether she should stay hidden and pray the man would disregard the sound and move on, or show herself. When the man's voice sounded out again, the queen carefully peeked around the tree trunk, unable to help herself. She was thankful the light from his lantern wasn't bright enough to expose her hiding spot.

"Come out where I can see you!" He demanded. His face was hard and serious, his breath coming out in short puffs. His grip on the hatchet tightened, making it clear that he was ready and willing to use it if he needed to. "Now! I won't ask again!"

Elsa took a deep breath and looked towards the stars for courage.

The dog's barks died down to warning growls when the queen began to slowly walk forward from the shadows. The man turned to face her direction with his hatchet still raised when he heard the sound of her approaching footsteps and the bottom of her dress scraping across the forest floor. She had her arms wrapped tightly around her, a gesture done more for comfort than anything else. It helped her play the part of a freezing young maiden in trouble better, which was a half-truth.

When the man caught sight of a shadow coming towards him, he squinted through the darkness with a scowl on his bearded face, but it immediately gave way to confusion and surprise when Elsa came into full view and the man got a good look at her trembling form.

"What in the world..." He trailed off softly as his stormy grey eyes took in the battered young woman.

His steely gaze trailed over her ruined party dress, dirt-caked skin, dazzling blue orbs, and the platinum hair that hung in her face and cascaded over her shoulders. She stopped several feet from the man and his dog, standing on the very edge of the yellow lighting from his lantern. She was close enough for him to see that she was unarmed, but far enough for her to get a running start if her doubts proved to be true and he tried to attack her.

Neither of them moved as they stood there looking, sizing each other up.

Elsa spoke first, breaking the silence.

"Please," She almost flinched at the sound of her own voice. "Please, I need help."

Feeling a little more confident that he wasn't going to immediately charge her, she took another step forward and held up a hand in front of her, but stepped back with her hand back against her chest again when his dog bared its teeth at her. The man quickly shushed the dog before lowering his hatchet and placing it back on his belt.

"What on God's green earth are you doing out here in the middle of the night, child?"

"I need help," Elsa repeated with a small hiccup. She could feel fresh tears sting her eyes as she struggled to keep her emotions in check, but failing miserably. "I've been running through the forest trying to find someone to help me I was taken from my home and held captive I have no idea where I am There's these men who are chasing after me and I really need-"

"Alright, alright, stop," He demanded gently while holding up a hand. "I need to you to slow down. I can't understand what you're trying to tell me. Just take a deep breath."

She nodded with a stifled sob and did as she was told. He gave her an approving smile.

"That's better. Now, what were you saying about men chasing you?"

"They're bandits! They kidnapped me from my kingdom and held me captive!"

"Bandits?" The man echoed, his brow knotted tightly. His gaze moved from Elsa's face towards the direction she came from. He seemed to be thinking deeply about something, his expression hard while his eyes searched the forest until a flash of recognition passed over his face.

"Yes," Elsa nodded with another hiccup. She didn't like the sudden change in his demeanor. It went from concerned to emotionless at an alarming instant. "They kept me in a dungeon not too far from here. I managed to escape them, but they could be back at anytime and I need somewhere-"

"I can't help you," The man cut her off suddenly, turning his back to her.

She blinked owlishly at him, unsure if she had just heard him correctly. "W-what?"

"I can't help you," He repeated, a little harsher.

Elsa stared at him with disbelief as he unhooked the rest of his horse's bindings. Her brain lagged for a moment, wondering where this sudden change came from. He seemed so willing to help her just moments before. What happened?

"I-I don't understand."

He refused to look at her. "You should move on now. There's nothing for you here."

She continued to stare at the old man's back, speechless. He picked up his lantern and whistled sharply for his animals to follow him as he walked towards his home with a noticeable limp in his right leg. Seeing that he fully intended to turn her away, Elsa catapulted into action, hiking up her dress skirt again and running to catch up to him.

"Wait!" She called. "Please stop! I need help!"

He stopped walking and rounded on her with a stern expression. He looked straight ahead at her downtrodden face, but Elsa could tell he was still trying to avoid her eyes, knowing that his abrupt brush off wasn't a sudden act of apathy on his part. No matter how much he tried to make it look like it. Something about what she had said disturbed him, enough to make him shut down and refuse her.

"Then I suggest you keep moving. There should be a town a few miles that way."

He pointed his lantern North, but Elsa only shook her head.

"I won't make it."

"That's not my problem," He said, turning away again and stepping up on to the porch of his house. "Just go now. You'll bring nothing but trouble if you stay."

Elsa stood frozen in place as she watched the man climb his porch steps. Her eyes were big and frightful as panic clawed away at her insides, making her feel even more sick to her stomach than she was before.

"_Please!_" She cried, dropping the skirt of her dress before bringing both hands together in front of her. If her situation hadn't been so desperate, she might have marveled at how much things had changed for her; a fully established, regal queen standing in the middle of nowhere, broken down and helpless and literally begging a stranger to take her in. "If they find me, they'll kill me!"

The man stopped again at her pleas for sanctuary. He didn't turn around, but it was obvious his cold decision - although ideal in the case of his own survival - was making it difficult for him to walk away, pitching what he _shouldn't_ do against what he _couldn't_ do.

He _shouldn't_ invite the young woman into his home because of the obvious bullseye she had pinned to her back. Her unfortunate business with the deadly bandits could very well become _his_ unfortunate business if he were to be caught helping her, which would mean trouble for him that a man of his age really didn't need to deal with. However, despite the red flags in his head trying to dissuade him from doing something stupid, what kind of man would he be if he rejected her? He _shouldn't_ get involved, but he _couldn't_ condemn a mere child to death just because it would be more convenient for him in the long-haul.

What kind of a man would he be? Not a very proud one.

It all boiled down to a crippling, internal conflict between his head and his heart. A conflict involving potentially unfavorable outcomes on both sides.

"Please," Elsa repeated in a soft whisper, her voice trembling. "I don't want to die out here."

Silence fell over them again as the queen's words hung thickly in the air, the only sounds being the rustling of dead leaves in a cold breeze and the soft whines of the man's dog as it waited near the front door of the cabin. Then he looked back over his shoulder at her. His faux indifference slowly melted away as his eyes finally met hers to reveal the return of the kindness and warmth she saw in him when he first spoke to her.

At long last, the man exhaled deeply from his nose and raised a hand to rub tiredly at his eyes as his shoulders sagged in defeat.

"Come inside," He sighed, stepping to his left to allow Elsa into his home.

"T-thank you," She stuttered, just barely holding back a grateful sob as she gathered her skirts again and stepped on to the porch. "Thank you so, so much!"

The man only muttered to himself while he watched the young woman brush past him into the warm haven of his home. Once she was safely inside, his aged eyes quickly swept over the surrounding forest again with a hardened glare, his gaze lingering in the direction Elsa came from. He muttered under his breath again, sending a silent challenge into the cold night before stepping into his home and closing the door behind him.

~O~

"Go sit over by the fire there and warm yourself up," The man instructed as he bolted the front door. "I'll heat some stew."

Elsa only nodded as she made her way to the lit fireplace and sat in the chair closest to it. She didn't really need to warm up, but the soothing heat drifting from the fireplace did help calm her nerves a bit.

"I'm Tobias and that's Lollie," The man gestured to himself before doing the same to the dog hovering excitedly around Elsa's chair, looking for their new guest's attention now that she didn't perceive the young woman as a threat to her master.

The queen reached down tentatively patted the dog on her head. Even though "Lollie" clearly wasn't anything like the bandits' rabid pack of mutts, she never really had any experience with dogs before her whole kidnapping fiasco. When they were little and Elsa first started isolating herself from her sister, she remembered hearing Anna's loud voice bouncing off every wall in the castle, constantly begging their parents to get her a puppy to help ease the void that Elsa left behind. They never relented their resolve no matter how much she begged. Now, whether that was because of Elsa's volatile ice powers, or simply Anna's lack of attention span making her an unfit pet owner, she could only guess.

"I'm Elsa."

Tobias didn't respond as he started putting firewood in the nearby cast-iron stove, but he made a low noise of acknowledgement as he worked. She looked around the scarcely decorated cabin while weaving her fingers together in her lap. It didn't look as if anybody else lived in the cabin, just the man and his dog. She eyed the cream collie laying at her feet for a few moments before looking towards Tobias again.

The only way she could think to describe him was grandfatherly. A wise, tired grandfather looking for peace and quiet but never seeming to find any. She felt a pang of guilt for dragging him into her mess. If she actually had a choice in the situation, she would have avoided other people altogether. If she could've used her ice powers without fearing for Anna's life, then she would have had a fighting chance against the bandits, but the frustrating truth was, she didn't and she couldn't.

And of course, there was the whole matter of Elsa being a queen.

"Alright then," Tobias spoke as he dished up a bowl of heated stew and brought it over to her. She took the offered bowl with a small smile and a quiet "Thank you" as he sat down in the chair on the other side of the fireplace with a tired sigh. "So, _Elsa_, where are you from?"

She glanced up at him before looking back down at the small pieces of vegetables floating in her bowl, biting her bottom lip in thought.

"The kingdom of Arendelle," She replied, deciding honesty was the best policy in terms of where she was from, but only selectively when it came to her royal title. She would have to keep that to herself for now.

A curious look passed over Tobias' bearded face. "Arendelle? You were taken all the way from _Arendelle_?"

"Is...is that far away? I mean, far from where we are now?"

Apprehension boiled hotly in the pit of her stomach. One of the many things the bandits deprived her of during her kidnapping was awareness of her surroundings outside her many holding cages. She knew they must have taken her far from her kingdom's territory, but she couldn't gauge exactly how far. They kept her unconscious for most of the trip and tightly locked away somewhere dark during her rare moments awake. She prayed though, that they hadn't taken her too far.

"It's more than far, my dear," He admitted, crushing Elsa's hope into oblivion. He seemed to realize this and offered up the only comfort he could think of. "You haven't been taken out of the country though. You're far from your kingdom, but still close, in a sense."

"Please, I can't stress enough how important it is that I return home."

"I would take you myself, but I'm just not as young as I used to be and my leg makes it difficult for me to travel," He told her regretfully as he patted his bad knee. "And I'm afraid with Winter rolling in so early this year, I don't think many folks around here will be too inclined to make such a journey either. Not to mention this whole business with these bandits. You'll be more hard-pressed finding someone to take you because of that reason alone, especially if it's the troop of scoundrels I think it is. The weather and the distance of the journey is always up for negotiation if you go to the right people, but Dag and his goons just complicate the narrative."

"Dag?" Elsa echoed.

"Perhaps I can set you up with a room at the local town inn?" He offered, ignoring her so flawlessly that she had trouble telling if it was intentional or not. "We could get you a job at one of the taverns to occupy your time until Winter's over. We should have no trouble finding someone to take you in Spring."

"Spring?" Elsa's eyes widened. "Oh no, no, no, I can't wait that long. It'll be too late by then. I need to get home as soon as possible!"

Tobias sighed. "Well, then I don't know what else to say. That's the best I can do for you."

"Yes I realize that and I'm eternally grateful for any help you're willing to give me," She replied. "But I _cannot_ wait until Spring. I can't even wait a week. I need to get home _immediately_. Please, it's a matter of life and death!"

"If that's the case, I can't help you," The man stated bluntly after he fished out a leather-bound flask from his trouser pockets and took a drink from it.

He didn't even bother asking what exactly qualified her situation as life and death, or why the bandits were even after her in the first place. He wasn't curious enough to get any more involved with the young woman than he already was. The sooner he could get her situated enough to move on, the better it'll be for everybody. He molded over the harsh taste of whiskey on his tongue for a moment as he thought of other options they could consider. She definitely wasn't going to make things easy for him, that was for damn sure. It took him a few minutes, but eventually an idea came to mind, along with the unwelcomed face of the only person Tobias could think of ballsy enough to take on the challenge Elsa that was unintentionally presenting.

"But I can take you to someone who can," He finally added.

"Who?" Elsa asked. Stupid question. As if she would actually know anyone from an area so far away from her kingdom.

"There's no guarantee that he will help," The man warned, ignoring her again. "You have very bad men after you, young lady. Men who have the tendency to take things a little too personal. They could bring great misfortune to anybody they catch trying to help you. It's a big risk that most men around these parts won't take no matter what reward is offered. But the man I know is a good sort...most of the time. He makes a living doing things other people aren't willing to. If you truly are that desperate to make the trip, I'll take you to talk to him, see if you can work something out."

"Yes, I am," Elsa replied without missing a beat. "Please take me to him."

"I will," He assured her with a coaxing hand before adding, "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? But-"

"Yes tomorrow," He repeated firmly. "Take the night to clean yourself up and rest. The wind is starting to pick up again and the trip into town is nearly an hour. It's too cold for you and me to be traveling."

Elsa opened her mouth to tell him that she didn't care about any of that, to _demand_ he take her into town tonight, but she caught herself when she realized why such a statement wouldn't blow over too well for two reasons. One, if what Tobias was saying was true, then he was risking a lot by bringing her into his home. She was completely at his mercy. She wasn't in the position to demand anything from him, especially since she decided not to disclose her royal status to him.

And two, if she adamantly insisted that traveling in freezing cold weather for an hour in a short sleeve, ruined party dress wouldn't bother her, then there was a very likely chance Tobias would ask her _why_, and for obvious reasons, she couldn't answer that.

"Alright," She reluctantly agreed. "Tomorrow then."

He smiled at her. "Good."

~O~

After another bowl of soup and some mild conversation, Tobias showed Elsa to a room on the second floor. It was a quaint little bedroom, much like the rest of the cabin, with plain furniture and basic toiletries Tobias told her she could use to clean herself up.

She looked around the room, noting to herself that the decor appeared more feminine than the rest of the cabin. There was a small bed in the corner with a flowery, lavender quilt and a little white vanity in another corner with hair combs and half-empty bottles of perfume organized neatly along its top. There was also a dark wood wardrobe against the furthest wall that Elsa suspected was full of dresses and skirts. She felt a little uncomfortable using the room, seeing that it obviously belonged to someone else, to some other girl, but she noticed the thick layer of dust coating nearly every surface in the room. It may have once belonged to someone else, but it was clearly abandoned now.

The queen briefly wondered who might have lived there with Tobias as she made her way towards the vanity and sat down in front of the oval mirror. She flinched again at her reflection, quickly getting to work with fixing her appearance so she could look like herself again.

As she gently combed her fingers through her hair, Elsa couldn't help but realize that she had taken several things in her life for granted. One of them being the safety and security that her castle home always proved. Regardless of how she might still feel about being called wicked names, or being shunned by her people, or (heaven forbid) locked away in chains again - nothing could quite beat the horror she felt when she found herself in the deadly hands of unknown attackers.

They were dangerous, unpredictable men who had the low sense of human morality, the perfect opportunity, and the lack of empathy to enact any sort of heinous torture on her that tickled their sick fancy. Which for Elsa, being a young woman with wealth and royal power - the list was almost endless. She missed the thick, sturdy walls of her castle with an overwhelming passion. Even her lonely ice castle provided a small sense of security that the queen would've done anything to feel right now.

Another thing she took for granted was the luxuries that came along with being a royal. Edible food, clear drinking water, and clean clothing would be an absolute Godsend for most people who weren't fortunate enough to have a high title in life, but Elsa was downright spoiled. She certainly wasn't uppity about it. She wasn't a conceited and selfish queen who rubbed her privileged upbringing in other people's faces. That wasn't the kind of ruler her parents raised her to be. But as heir to the throne, Elsa wanted for nothing when it came to materialistic things; beautiful dresses made of the finest material, freshly prepared meals, and a safe bed to sleep in every night. It wasn't until all those things were gone that Elsa started to notice how accustomed she was to them.

It went without saying that the bandits didn't go out of their way to properly cater to the queen's pampered lifestyle. Not that Elsa ever expected them to. That would've just been ridiculous.

Another thing she took for granted was her sister, but then again, she had already been doing that for years, hadn't she? Her mind always inevitably drifted back to Anna, no matter what kind of situation she was in. It always came back to Anna. She wondered where the hyperactive redhead was now and what she was doing. She prayed Anna was safe, gathered around the fireplace in Elsa's study with Kristoff, Sven, and Olaf, as far from danger as possible.

The queen closed her eyes as a mental picture of her loved ones began to develop in her head. They were all arguing with each other while planning Elsa's grand rescue. The queen smiled softly at the thought. She could picture each one of them so clearly in her head.

Anna would be nothing but stubborn in a situation like this, determined to escape the walls of the castle and set off in hopes of finding some clue as to where those wedding-crashing, sister-napping bandits ran off to. She would listen to no discouraging pleas for her to stay inside the castle from loyal servants like Kai or Gerda. If it had been entirely up to the feisty princess, she would've mounted a horse and rode off into the unknown days ago, to seek out Elsa once again and bring her home.

That was where Kristoff would come in. The more level-headed ice harvester would duly point out all the flaws in whatever half-baked plan Anna came up with while sitting back in his chair with a cocky, "You-have-no-idea-what-you-are-talking-about" smile. Time would be wasting, but there was no edgewise opportunities when it came to Anna and her ramblings. However, once he poked as many holes in his bride-to-be's plans as he could, he would offer up a better, more sensible solution. A solution less likely to get them all killed.

Then there would be Olaf. Assuming that something shiny and colorful hasn't come along and distracted him, the little snowman would be as useful in the argument as a wet towel. He would agree and disagree with both of his friends on all the exact same points, mindlessly nodding his head as they bickered back and forth while not really following anything they were saying. Not that his input was actually up for debate. He would be all in for a rescue mission, no matter which plan of action they chose to take.

And as for Sven, the reindeer would most likely be on Kristoff's side, whether he actually agreed with the mountain man or not, since Kristoff spoke for him. Although, Elsa seriously doubted Kai would ever allow the reindeer inside the queen's study, regardless of the circumstances.

She smiled fondly at the little scene playing in her head as she continued to comb her hair, lost in her fantasy. It wasn't until she heard Lollie barking loudly downstairs that she came back to the present. She barely had time to wonder was going on before she jumped out of her chair and gasped when Tobias suddenly came bursting into the room.

"Blow out the candles and close the curtains," He told her, not apologizing for barging in without knocking. Elsa looked at him with questioning eyes while Lollie continued to howl up a storm somewhere downstairs. "There's someone coming up to the house."

He left the room without another word, letting the sudden hollowing silence spur Elsa into action when she realized it could be the bandits. While Tobias rummaged around downstairs with Lollie, Elsa quickly blew out the small candles that lit up the room and shut the curtains, just like he told her to. She then closed the bedroom door and locked it before moving back to the window and peeking out through the fabric. She heard the front door open and saw Tobias step down from his porch with a shotgun and lantern in hand.

He limped out further into his yard to confront the two figures approaching his property on horseback. They rode without any lanterns, making their identities and late night visit to Tobias' lonely cabin all the more suspenseful. They dismounted their horses and stepped into the light of the old man's lantern. It was dark out still and the lantern light was poor, but at the mere sight of the visitors' familiar black and red clothing, Elsa let out another gasp and her heart started pounding harder in her chest. Frost shot up the handful of curtain clutched tightly in her grasp.

It was the bandits. Not all of them obviously, just two lackeys, but it was definitely the bandits.

It was both comforting and horrifying to see that the bandit leader wasn't among them. The darkness outside made it difficult for her to see most of their features, but from what Elsa _could_ see, neither of them wore a scarf across their mouths. The leader _always_ wore a scarf. It was comforting because the bandit leader terrified the queen more than anything has ever terrified her before, _including_ accidentally freezing Anna again. But it was also horrifying because if the bandit wasn't there looking for Elsa, than that could mean he was on his way back to Arendelle to attack Anna and Kristoff. That ugly thought made the temperature in her room drop significantly until her breath became clouded.

The queen watched as the two bandits approached Tobias. They didn't appear to be armed with anything another than a small knife or two clipped to their belts, but they walked with a cocky air to them as they regarded the older man with twin smirks. They seemed pretty confident in themselves even as Tobias stood as still as stone with a loaded shotgun in his hand and an angry pooch growling at them from the porch.

The tall, almost rat-faced bandit that reminded Elsa of a beanpole called out a greeting, referring to Tobias by name. It obviously signified her new friend was already acquainted with the bandits, but it was also obvious they were anything but friends by the way he aimed his weapon at them. The two stopped in their tracks and eyed the long barrel pointed at their faces.

The fat, stubby bandit that stood comically next to the beanpole started to speak, but Elsa couldn't hear what anyone was saying now, their tones were too low. They exchanged words while occasionally gesturing with their hands towards the forest around them. Whatever they were saying, Tobias didn't move an inch. He gave them short, one word answers to whatever questions they asked him. Elsa feared that his blatant defensiveness would arouse their suspicions, but neither bandit seemed the least bit put-off by the old man's unfriendliness. Throughout their exchange, the two snickered and jostled each other, making it clear that they weren't taking their search for Elsa, or the possibility that Tobias might be harboring her, seriously.

After several long, agonizing minutes, Elsa let out a sigh of relief and loosened her frozen death-grip on the curtain when the two bandits finally turned away and walked back to their horses. Tobias watched them leave, refusing to leave from his spot until they mounted their horses again and rode off back down the front path. Elsa made her way back down the stairs just as Tobias and Lollie came back inside. He let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his eyes again before looking up and spotting the young woman standing on the stairs.

"I told them I heard a woman crying a few miles East on my way home from the fields. That should buy us some more time, but they'll be back eventually once they pick up your trail again. It would be best if we go tonight," He said solemnly. "I'll get you a cloak."

* * *

**AN: Wow, that turned out longer than I expected it to. Again, sorry for the slow update. Usually when I start stories I like to update frequently in the beginning so I can build and maintain interest, but I'm a twenty year old college student. Enough said.  
I'll also be juggling this story with my Rise of the Guardians and American McGee's Alice crossover story "Winter Wonderland", which has a lot more people waiting on it, so that'll eat up some update time too.**

**This chapter was graciously beta read by my pal xshattered-reflectionx. She did a fantastic job with it, but sometimes mistakes and typos are still missed, so if you see one in the content, let me know in a review and I'll fix it!**

**Thanks again!**

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	3. Engaging A Stranger

**AN: Hey guys, thanks for the support! It really helps! I hope with this chapter I'll gain more readers and reviews. Super nervous for this chapter since it introduces my OC. Hopefully, you guys will like him and he'll turn out to be a good character. I haven't done an OC story in years, not since I first started FanFiction. I would say that my OC skills are a little rusty, but I wasn't really any good at writing them to begin with, so...**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (11/3/16)**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or any of its characters.**

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The trip into the nearby town had been mercifully uneventful. Elsa and Tobias traveled in silence while Lollie rolled around in the back of the hay wagon. The queen sat next to the older gentleman with an itchy cloak wrapped around her shoulders. She had the large hood pulled up over her ears with her knotted hair stuffed inside to keep it out of her eyes. She could still feel a light layer of dirt coating her face. It made her feel even more uncomfortable, but after their recent run-in with the two bandits, Tobias ushered her and Lollie out of the cabin before she could get a word in edgewise.

Not that she had any right to complain if she had. She wanted to go tonight, hadn't she?

It was a miserable night, in all sense of the word. Tobias' cream collie had been more than pleased with the late-night excitement, but Elsa wasn't as entertained as the pooch. And neither was Tobias, if the hardened expression on his aged face was anything to go by. He sat even more rigidly than Elsa did, his eyes scanning the dark forest for signs of danger.

She felt compelled to ask him what his relationship was with the bandits since it was clear from their brief interaction that_ they_ knew who _he_ was, but she didn't know how to go about it. Each time she stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye, his stern frown deterred her from speaking. She did, however, manage to ask him on their way out how he knew that the bandits would come back. Without looking at her, he replied that the bandits have been camping in this forest for years. They lurked around the alleyways of the nearby towns, conducted questionable business in the seedy taverns and attacked unaware travelers who passed through their self-designated territory. And with their hideout only a few miles away from his land, it was almost impossible for their paths not to cross every now and again, unfortunately.

To be honest Elsa didn't know how she should feel about his answer. She didn't believe Tobias was secretly in cohorts with the bandits, attempting to lure her back to the slaughter like a false shepherd, or anything like that. Even after only knowing him for a few hours, the queen felt safe around him. He was still a capable man if he needed to be, but he just seemed too wired down and done with the world's nonsense to dredge up trouble with anybody.

Still though, the more stern side of Elsa told her that she shouldn't be too trusting so soon after her miraculous escape. It then went on to snidely remind her how well trusting a total stranger once worked out for Anna. However, the other side that didn't really give a damn at this point, argued that she was just letting Tobias help her. Not marry her. It also didn't fail to mention that she didn't exactly have a lot of alternative options.

In any case, it was too late now.

Glancing back towards the road, Elsa's shoulders sagged in relief, seeing the familiar slanted roofs and cobbled streets that marked the return to civilization. There was nothing remarkable about the town from what she could see. It looked empty for the most part, except for a few stragglers roaming the streets, and a shop or two with their lights still on. The souls still out and about at such a late hour paid little attention to the traveling pair as Elsa and Tobias passed. The roamers walked with their heads down and their faces bundled up with thick scarves, either to help fight off the cold nipping their skin, or to avoid arousing suspicion. The queen decided to follow their example and burrowed deeper into her cloak.

They traveled further into the town until they came out through the other side. Elsa felt her stomach lurch when Tobias pulled on the horse's reigns and the wagon slowed down outside a large establishment that she could only assume was a tavern. It was two stories high with lights streaming through the windows, along with the rowdy sounds of men yelling at each other inside and the assaulting smell of tobacco and ale.

Tobias let out a tired sigh as he looked up at the tavern for a moment before setting aside the reigns. He stood up and gingerly stepped down from the wagon, mindful of his bad leg. "Well come on then," he said, motioning for Elsa to pick up the pace as she climbed down after him. "Dress or no, if I can get my crotchety hide on and off this thing at a decent pace, you certainly should be able to."

Elsa found herself a little shaky on her feet from the ride. The bumpy, unpaved roads of the countryside had been unforgiving. She nearly tripped over the ends of her tattered dress again, but Tobias noticed the trouble she was having and reached out a hand to steady her.

"Don't worry, we won't be here long," He said with a reassuring smile after he saw the uncertain, borderline horrified, expression that took over Elsa's face when the doors of the tavern suddenly slammed open and two large men came out carrying a smaller man between them. The man in the middle, who was clearly drunk out of his mind, muttered incoherently as he was carried down the front steps and literally thrown from the shady establishment. He landed face first into a nearby mud puddle and continued to lay in the filth even after the other men retreated back into the tavern.

"Mind your step," Tobias warned her as they made their way around the drunken man.

Elsa suppressed a cough when the offending smell of smoke and very unclean men washed over her like a wave. The smell and sounds coming from within the hobble almost made Elsa want to wait in the wagon with Lollie, but she forced herself forward with what little courage she had left while mentally berate herself for almost losing her nerve.

_'Come on! Get it together, Elsa! This is a life or death situation we're in right now, with not just your life on the line, and you can't even step past the threshold of some dinky little bar? Pathetic! What a proud queen Mama and Papa raised. Suck it up and do what needs to be done!'_

It was stuffy and almost humid inside the tavern. One of the many side effects of having so much tobacco burning at once. The lighting inside might have been bright at one point during the night, but the grey cloud of smoke dimmed it and made the establishment completely congested. The amount of patrons shoved into almost every inch of available space didn't help much either.

At the sound of the bar doors opening on rusted hinges, loudly announcing new arrivals, several heads turned their way when they entered the tavern. They glanced briefly towards the larger of the pair, which was Tobias, before shifting to Elsa where they gladly let their gazes linger.

There were a few hoots, whistles, and drunken catcalls throughout the crowd, making the cloaked queen shiver in disgust. A few of the nearby patrons stared openly at her and made vulgar hand gestures and kissing noises when she looked in their direction, beckoning for her to come join them. But when Elsa only looked away and pulled her hood down further over her face, most of them lost interest and turned back to their tables. They were the ones who only called out to get a rise out of her because their alcohol-laced minds found it hilarious, but the others who stared at Elsa with lust and serious intent, looked away begrudgingly when Tobias squared his shoulders and glared, reminding them that the pretty new visitor wasn't alone.

"Wait here," he commanded before stepping away from her.

"What?" Her head snapped in his direction and her eyes widened. Was that man seriously thinking about leaving her here?

"I'll just be right upstairs," he told her, pointing towards the staircase in the back. "If anyone bothers you, just holler for Milynda, the old barmaid over there-" He gestured towards the heavyset, grey-haired woman manning the bar. "She'll help you. I'll only be a moment."

And then the man was gone from her side, weaving his way through the tables and people until he reached the staircase. Elsa watched him meander up the steps until he disappeared on to the second floor. Once he was out of sight, some of the tavern patrons' attention went back on her.

The queen could feel several pairs of eyes on her as she made her way towards the bar, but she refused to let the thugs of the seedy establishment know they were getting to her. She walked with her head held high and her back straight, making sure to project a sense of authority, but not too much authority (any respected royal would stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this if they weren't careful). Just enough to let any onlookers know she was here for a reason, and that reason wasn't to entertain them.

She still couldn't help but feel exposed. There were no privies in here, everything was open for scrutiny.

After finding a vacant stool, Elsa sat down and placed her hands neatly in her lap while her cloak did a noteworthy job of hiding her from public view. She tried her best not to touch anything just in case her anxiety caused her to accidentally freeze something. The silver-haired barmaid Tobias pointed out, stopped by her stool with a friendly smile and asked if Elsa would like anything to drink, but she politely declined the offer. Even if she was a drinker, she most certainly wouldn't allow herself to get inebriated in a place like this.

True to his word, Elsa wasn't left on her own for long. She felt her heart skip in relief when she soon caught sight of Tobias coming back down the staircase. She practically jumped from her stool and ran across the room when he spotted her sitting at the bar and motioned for her to come over. She did her best to squeeze through the crowd of people as she made her way towards the stairs, watching her footing like a hawk and keeping her arms tucked tightly against her chest. She let out a sigh when she finally managed to make it to the staircase without being mowed over and trampled.

"He wants to speak with you," Tobias said as he leaned in and spoke over the noise and mixed voices around them.

Thankfully, the second floor was significantly less crowded. Full tables and shouting men still littered it, but it wasn't nearly as crowded, which was probably because there wasn't another ale station up there and most drunkards weren't motivated enough to walk all the way downstairs to get more alcohol.

"Over there," Tobias pointed towards the tables in back. "Try not to be nervous. I told him you can handle yourself well."

Elsa blinked up at him and nodded before once again navigating through tables and chairs while Tobias hung back. She walked until she came to the table she thought she saw Tobias point at, which seated a large, overweight man who didn't even look up from the sloppy meal he was scarfing down his throat when she stopped at his table. Her nose wrinkled up in disgust as he reminded her of a fat, greasy hog.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she quickly curbed her disgust and cleared her throat.

"Excuse me."

He looked up from his food and gave Elsa a bizarre look when he realized she was talking to him.

"Tobias said you wanted to speak with me?"

"Wha-?" Bits of food flew out of his overstuffed mouth as he stared at her.

There was a snort from somewhere behind her before a whistle grabbed her attention.

"Over here, sweetheart."

Elsa turned towards the table behind her and blinked at the considerably younger man, thin and less likely to die of a severe heart attack, sitting at the empty table. She stared at him for a moment before looking back at the overweight man, who was staring at her like she had just spouted a second head. She blushed, realizing her mistake.

"Oh! I'm sorry," she apologized to the older man before turning away with burning cheeks.

As the queen quickly sat down across from the right man, he flashed a heavily dubious look across the room at Tobias before shaking his head and looking back down at the playing cards in his hands. There were other little stacks of cards, all facing upside down in front of the empty chairs that surrounded the table. There was also a pile of gold coins in the middle, telling Elsa that they had interrupted the man's card game.

The lighting was shoddy at best, but she still tried to make out the man across from her. He was leaning back in a wooden chair with one foot lodged against the side of the table, making his chair balance precariously on its back legs. He had black, shaggy hair that hung unkempt in his eyes, a clean appearance, and seemed only a few years older than her. He looked more put together than most of the other patrons. Because of his younger age, she assumed. The filth and noise of the tavern clearly didn't stop him from playing cards and dwelling near the pigs in their pigpen, but he wasn't quite at that age yet where he was ready to join them. Where he stopped caring whether he had dried fluids on the front of his shirt, or enough grease on his face and in his hair to deep fry a small bird.

Elsa took in as many details as she could while she waited for him to do something. For whatever reason, he didn't seem too incline to jump straight into things, and it had her waiting in slight apprehension.

Was this what it was like for Anna, the queen wondered; when she employed Kristoff to help her make it to the North mountain? The basis might have been somewhat similar, but Elsa envied the differences in their situations. She was in no cozy little barn, with a bundle of carrots in her arms and an unwavering sense of optimism, determined to strike a deal with a big goof who sang silly lullabies to his pet reindeer. Elsa didn't have a single inkling where she was, or who she was sitting across from. Looking at him, she could tell right away he was no gentle giant.

"So," he spoke up, bringing Elsa out of her thoughts and back to the present. His voice was deep and slightly hoarse, but distinct. He didn't look up from his handful of cards when he finally acknowledged her. "What'd you do to piss off Dag?"

"Excuse me?"

"Dag. The bandit leader with the jacked up mug," he clarified, finally looking up at her with hard eyes while gesturing to the right side of his face. When Elsa did nothing but blink at him, he sighed. "Did he ever take his bandanna off in front of you?"

Elsa thought back to the brutal thug who had threatened to kill her sister if she used her ice powers. She tried to remember if she ever saw him without that blood red cloth covering the bottom of his face and the hood pulled up around his head. When she couldn't, she shook her head.

"Yeah, didn't think so," the man muttered mostly to himself as he finally set down the cards.

With a creak of his chair, he pulled his leg down and sat forward until all four chair legs where back on the ground. He leaned in with his arms crossed and looked at her - really looked at her. His stare wasn't lecherous, more scrutinizing than anything else, but it still made her feel uncomfortable.

He stared intensely at her, making her feel more stripped down than if she had been sitting at the table bare naked. However, in the wake of his harsh scrutiny, Elsa held her head high and projected confidence she didn't have, faking it as she had done all her life. She looked him straight in the eyes and fought hard against looking away when the intensity of his stare became too much. She held it for as long as she could, feeling as if she would be failing a huge test if she were to look away before him. It was difficult. She had enough problems being looked at by her own citizens for any extended period of time, let alone some shady thug.

"So," he drawled. "What's your story?"

Elsa sat a little straighter, speaking as clear and collected as she could while displaying as much dignity and authority as she could without it being suspicious. "I need safe passage to the kingdom of Arendelle. I was kidnapped from my home by bandits and it is imperative that I return as soon as-"

"No, stop," he interrupted with a shake of his hand. "That's not what I meant. I know why you're here and what you want from me. Tobias already told me that. I want to know who you are."

She blinked at him. "I'm sorry?"

"I want to know who you are, what you do, why you can't wait until spring for an escort."

Elsa looked on, more confused than ever. What sort of dealing was this? Why did he care who she was? She wasn't anyone important as far as he knew, and she intended to keep it that way.

However, it seemed with each passing minute her confusion was getting worse, and that was more upsetting than being lost and alone. There was a long pause as Elsa picked her brain for something to say. She would be lying if she said she wasn't expecting him to ask for a backstory, but she honestly didn't think he would ask so soon. In her head, their dealing played out just like any other negotiation she has ever been apart of. True, the circumstances were less than customary, but she couldn't see why the art of the deal had to be any different than negotiating taxes, or exchanging trading routes.

"What does any of that matter?" she finally settled on.

"It matters to me."

"But why?"

"Call me paranoid, but I like to know who I'm doing business with. Gives me a little more job security when I know I'm not going to get knocked over the head with a rock and wake up in some ditch somewhere with one of my kidneys missing."

How oddly specific. She didn't quite know how to respond to that.

"It's a long story."

Of course there was no way she was going to tell him the real story. She just needed time to finish thinking up a believable lie. Even if he was throwing her this curve ball by asking her to explain herself, she knew she had to be a little creative while also being careful. Not necessarily a very easy thing to do, especially when she was pitching it to someone who, no doubt, lied for a living.

"I've got time," he replied, leaning over to sneak a peek at one of his opponent's unguarded cards, further proving Elsa's opinion of him.

"I'm a barmaid," she settled on, rather uncreatively, knowing any lagging pauses might give her lie away. "I'm from the kingdom of Arendelle. I was working in a tavern my uncle...Olaf, owns when there was a bandit raid and they took me-"

"What was it like?" he interrupted her. "The raid, I mean. What was it like?"

"What do you mean what was it like?" she countered. "What do you _think_ it was like? My home was invaded by bandits! It happened out of nowhere, nobody saw it coming. People were in a panic, running and screaming. They attacked innocent citizens and destroyed property! And that, that _horrible_ man, hit me over the head and took me from my home and locked me in a cage!"

"Alright, alright, alright," the man cut in, holding up his hands. "I get it. Don't get all hysterical on me."

"I just don't see why all this matters," she snapped, finally allowing some of her frustration to slip out. Her hands twisted angrily into the ruined fabric of her party dress, causing a thin layer of frost to crawl across her lap, underneath the table. "I've told you why I'm here and why I need your services. I'm willing to pay any price you ask, but if you're not going to accept my offer, then stop wasting my time!"

He looked up from his cards with a cocked eyebrow. "Any price?"

Elsa deflated a little, feeling uneasy again when she remembered that there was more than one way to settle a debt. "Within reason, of course. I won't do anything vulgar, if-if that's what you're thinking."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Any currency price you wish, or any material price for that matter, I'll gladly pay if you accept this job."

"Oh really?" he replied with false enthusiasm. "A simple barmaid such as yourself has the means of giving me _any_ amount of money I want? Man, bartending is way more lucrative than I thought it was. Maybe I'm in the wrong line of work."

Elsa opened her mouth to snap at him again (because _yes_, she was very much sure he was in the wrong line of work), but stopped short when she realized her mistake. In both of her roles, she was willing to pay anything to get back home to her kingdom, but it was stupid of her to forget she needed to watch her words. Of course a queen had more than enough money to pay off someone like him, but an average barmaid probably couldn't afford more than the bare basics, like food and clothing.

Now, the man either knew she was lying through her teeth, or believed she was a foolish peasant, trying to make promises she had no way of following through with.

She held her ground anyways, against his suspicious stares, knowing you could convince someone of just about anything if you forced enough confidence behind it. The man across from her narrowed his gaze further before scoffing again. His eyes went back down towards the cards in his hands.

"Alright," he said. "I'll do it."

Elsa frowned at him. "W-what?"

"I said I'll do it," His tone clipped as he looked down at his cards.

She stared owlishly at him, unsure if she had heard him correctly (was he always this inappropriately nonchalant?) before she let out a relieved laugh. Was he actually going to help her? It seemed too good to be true, but that was what he just said, wasn't it?

"Thank you!" she gasped, practically jumping on to the table in her excitement, but ended up accidentally shoving the wobbly table forward when she abruptly stood from her chair. The queen let out another gasp when the side of the table rammed into the man's stomach, inciting a winded "_Oof!_" from him. A nearby pitcher of ale fell over and spilled into his lap.

"Jesus!" he swore as he stood up and wiped the spilled liquid off the front of his pants. "Watch what the hell you're doing!"

"I'm sorry!" she apologized desperately.

The man only shot her a mean glare before looking back down at his wet trousers. Elsa stood by anxiously, gnawing on her bottom lip as she waited for him to snap at her, changing his mind because of her clumsiness. She mentally berated herself for it. _Anna_ was the clumsy one, not her. She was supposed to be the one with more self control.

Thankfully, the towering presence of Tobias came into her peripheral vision and the old man tactfully placed himself between Elsa and the grumbling thug. The two males exchanged hard stares while Elsa stood off to the side. The younger man was the first to break the eye contact.

"Take her back to your place for the night, Tobias. Get the horses ready and I'll handle the supplies. We'll leave tomorrow morning."

Tobias only nodded before reaching out to grab on to Elsa's cloak. He gently tugged on it to get the queen to follow him, but Elsa didn't move.

"Tomorrow morning?" she echoed. "No, that won't do. I need to leave tonight."

"Oh yeah?" he replied, "and thanks to _you_, I now need a new pair of pants. Which one of our problems do you think I care more about? If you're in such a hurry you can't wait another few hours, then feel free to go ahead by yourself. Otherwise, we leave at dawn, Sugar. Be awake and be ready by the time I get there or the deal's off."

Elsa gaped at the man as he looked down at his pants with another curse before storming off towards a back room in the tavern. She watched him go.

_Sugar?_

~O~

Morning couldn't have come sooner.

Despite being practically dead on her feet the night before, Elsa had a hard time falling asleep. Her racing mind and mounting anxiety had her tossing and turning until she finally managed to fall into a restless sleep. She couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour or so before Tobias knocked on her door.

The older gentleman's kindness seemed to know no limits, and it moved Elsa's heart. Not only did he lend her a warm room with a nice bed, but he also gave her new clothing to wear, and since they would most likely never see each other again after today (a very sad thought, she realized), Elsa knew he was giving them to her to keep. She took the bundle of fabric with a grateful smile, one he returned with a small smile of his own before leaving the room so she could change.

The queen stripped out of her ruined party dress, letting it fall to the floor in a dirty heap before repeating the process with her chemise and ripped stockings. She only gave the new clothing a quick once-over before slipping them on.

Other than the typical underwear and skirts, the outfit consisted of a cream-colored, long sleeve blouse that felt clean and crisp against her skin. On top of that, Elsa pulled on a black bodice with little difficultly and tied the laces that ran up the front. Next came a maroon skirt that stopped about mid-shin. The material was nicer than she expected, with a faint floral design along the bottom trim.

The outfit seemed mismatched rather than part of a whole set, but it made her feel less exposed and out of place, so she was grateful. The shirt was slightly worn and broken in, along with the bodice, but they fit like a glove, which made Elsa wonder why Tobias had them in his possession. Elsa mused on this as she sat down at the room's vanity and looked into the mirror.

She had washed up the night before after they got back from town. She started working through the tangles in her platinum blonde hair, finally feeling clean again. The lift in her appearance showed in her reflection. Her skin was clear and back to its usual tone with her blue eyes shining brighter with new hope. She felt at ease as she weaved her hair into a french braid, leaving it to rest on her shoulder when it was finished.

She fiddled around with her appearance until Tobias called from downstairs. Without much thought, she picked up her old clothing from the floor and tossed them into the fireplace. The fire flared as it burned the dirty material, erasing the last bit of evidence of her time in captivity. She slipped on a pair of black boots and pulled a blue cloak on to her shoulders.

With her last article of clothing she hesitated. It was a pair of light blue gloves, almost identical to her old pair back in Arendelle, but not as finely made. She knew Tobias meant nothing by it when he gave them to her, but she still cringed all the same. She slipped them over her hands with a grim face. It felt like she was taking several steps back from all the progress she made since the Great Thaw, but she knew it was for the best. She could take them off again when she got back home and let the wind take them like the first pair.

Tobias was outside, wrangling the horses when Elsa came downstairs. Lollie greeted her with a happy bark when she saw the queen step out on to the front porch. The pooch ran up to her with her tail wagging and stopped at Elsa's feet. She looked up at her with brown eyes, begging for the woman to pet her. Elsa smiled and patted her on her head.

"Good morning," Tobias greeted just as he set down a bucket of fresh water for his horses.

"Good morning," she returned.

The blonde looked around the front yard of the cabin. Her blue eyes searched the property for their charming "friend" from last night. The thought of his arrival was bittersweet. Yes, he was a jerk, but he was a jerk who was going to help her get home.

"Where is he?" she finally asked.

"Over there," Tobias nodded his head in the direction of the barn, already knowing who she was talking about. "He's in a bit of a mood this morning, so tread lightly."

Elsa didn't respond. She only looked towards the barn to see bags of supplies by the open door before a tall figure stepped out and kneeled down next to them. She watched him for a few moments before squaring her shoulders and making her way over to him. As she walked, she took in his appearance again.

The early morning sun revealed that his hair was actually an incredibly dark brown, not black like she thought back in the tavern. It was still shaggy, hanging carefree in front of his eyes as he rifled through his bags, though it wasn't entirely unkempt. It just seemed like he was too lazy to get a proper haircut, or even swipe it back like most men do. It was clean, at least. A huge improvement over most of the men Elsa's encountered during this neverending nightmare.

He also didn't look as old as he did last night. As a rough guess, he looked only a few years older than herself. Sometimes it was difficult to tell with males, especially when they towered in height, and he was rather tall. Almost as tall as Kristoff even, if Elsa remembered correctly, but not nearly as broad and muscled as the ice harvester. He was more slender, well in shape with a long torso and a wiry build. And though his manners could use improvement, Elsa would admit he was attractive. He had that beatnik look about him, but it seemed more authentic rather than purposely posed, like he honestly couldn't care less about how he looked.

He had broken-faced good looks, healthy colored skin, and a slightly hunched, lazy posture. And as she drew closer, Elsa also noticed three jagged lines of black on his neck. They were poking out from underneath the neckline of his shirt, crawling up the side of his neck. A tattoo, maybe?

His clothing consisted of a gray shirt, halfway tucked into his pants with the buttons at the neckline unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Leather suspenders stretched down his front and crossed behind his back before attaching to a pair of black pants that ran all the way down his legs. They reached his heavy boots, well-worn and lazily tired, where the ends were stuffed in. He also wore black, half-cut work gloves and had a leather holster strapped to his thigh with a large hunting knife tucked into it.

Elsa stopped behind him with her back straight, her hands folded neatly in front of her and her head held high; displaying just enough confidence without it being suspicious.

She cleared her throat.

He looked up at her from where he was kneeling, squinting against the morning light that shined behind her head. She absently noted as she gave him a smile, that his eyes were hazel.

"Good morning."

He looked back down at his bags. "Morning."

"I wanted to thank you again for doing this. I'm Elsa," she introduced herself, holding out a hand.

The man only gave it a glance.

"Elsa what?"

The queen blinked and frowned at the question.

Oh, right. Normal people had last names, didn't they?

"Snow?" She offered up the first thing that came to mind and flinched when it came out sounding more like a question.

"Are you asking me?"

"No, it's Snow. Elsa Snow," she replied with more conviction. "That's my last name. My family name. I didn't realize that was what you were asking. But yes, that is my name. My last name."

Elsa held back an uneasy laugh and smiled a tight-lipped smile as the man just stared at her. An uncomfortable silence fell while she shifted under his gaze. He had that "this is awkward" look on his face.

"And you are?" she asked, desperate to break the sudden tension.

"Logan Massett," he replied, standing back up to his full height and disregarding her extended hand. "You got everything you need?"

She nodded. "I believe so, yes."

The thug, newly dubbed Logan, gave her a nod before hauling one of the supplies bags on to his shoulder and carrying it over to the horses. Taking that as a dismissal, Elsa walked back over to Tobias and Lollie. As she came to stand next to the old man on the front porch, she realized something.

"Isn't 'Logan' the name of your mule?" she asked, remembering the name etched into the mule's stall when Tobias sent her out to the barn to fetch a coil of rope the night before.

"Why yes, it is," he nodded. His face was serious as he watched Logan prep the horses. "I named him after our friend over there."

She looked at the younger man now sharpening his hunting knife with confusion. "Why?"

He shrugged. "It seemed rather fitting at the time. They're both braying jackasses."

The queen stifled a laugh behind her gloved hand at the man's response. He gave her a coy side glance and winked.

"Oh har hee har," Logan called out sarcastically, not even looking up from his knife. "Smartass old man. I should slit your throat and watch the dust come out," he mumbled to himself.

"Do you trust him?" Elsa asked in a low tone once she sobered up.

She didn't know Tobias very long, or virtually anything about him other than his name, but she valued his opinion as if she did. It was the least she could do after everything he had done for her, and everything he had risked by taking her in. She prayed it wouldn't come back to bite him after she was gone.

Tobias pursed his lips in thought for a moment as he looked between the woman in front of him and the man near the horses. "Well, I've known Logan for a couple years now and I've come to realize a long time ago that he is a stubborn, hotheaded child with a bitter outlook on life and a bad attitude."

Elsa pulled a face that almost made Tobias laugh.

"But I will admit, if you give the boy an honest job, I know he'll do anything and everything within his capability to deliver with little complaint, which is the best you are going to find under these circumstances. But to answer your question, yes, I do trust him."

'_It'll have to do,_' Elsa thought to herself before excusing herself.

Tobias followed after her, but broke off to go speak with Logan. The young man didn't acknowledge him as he hauled the last of the supplies on to his horse. Tobias shot a glance over his shoulder at Elsa, who was kneeling on the porch saying goodbye to Lollie, making sure she wasn't paying attention before turning back to Logan with a stern look.

"I don't suppose you plan on telling her, do you? About your...history with those bandits?"

Logan scoffed. "Only if you think it'll help, which we both know it won't. If everything goes smoothly - she gets home and I get my payment - then I don't see why it would matter."

"But it won't go smoothly," Tobias pointed out. "If Dag and his men went through all that trouble to kidnap a girl all the way from Arendelle and keep her prisoner, then they are not just going to let her go because she escaped. You _know_ that."

"Such a downer," Logan rolled his eyes. "Have a little faith, Toby. Everything's going to be just fine."

The younger man pulled the navy blue scarf from around "Toby's" neck and wrapped it around his own before walking over to his horse and climbing up on the saddle. Tobias didn't move to take his scarf back. He only shook his head and gave his companion another stern look.

"Don't make me regret this, Logan."

"Do I ever?" he asked before calling out to Elsa. "Hey! Get the lead out, Sugar. We're burning daylight."

"You don't want me to answer that," the older gentleman mumbled as he took hold of Elsa's horse.

After helping the woman mount her horse, Tobias grabbed on to the reins and walked them to the edge of his yard while Logan trailed close behind. Once they reached the front gate, Elsa looked down at Tobias with a sad smile. There were no words good enough to express how indebted she felt. He had done more for her in one night than most people had ever done in her entire life.

"Thank you _so_ much, Tobias." She reached out to lay a gloved hand over his, squeezing it gently. "I will never forget what you have done for me. I just wish there was some way I could repay you."

The old man smiled back at her warmly as he pulled his hand from underneath hers and held out the reins. "Just get home safely and we'll call it square."

"Thank you," the queen said one last time before lightly kicking her horse with her heels. She hadn't done much horse riding in her life, but thanks to a few childhood lessons, she knew the gist of it.

Tobias lingered by the front gate as the travelers moved along the path ahead of them. Lollie followed behind the two, trotting along side the horses until they reached the end of her master's property. She sat down with a soft whine and watched them continue on their way with flattened ears.

"See you later, beautiful!" Logan called to the cream-colored collie, earning himself a bark.

"What a wonderful man," Elsa mused out loud once the cabin was gone from sight. "What makes a man help a total stranger as much as he did?"

"He used to have a daughter about your age," Logan replied as he passed her to take point. "If that helps put things into perspective."

It did. So much so, Elsa didn't have the heart to ask him what he meant by "used to". She looked down at the clothing she was wearing, noting once again how the shirt and corset were well-used, but the pretty maroon skirt and blue cloak were still in good condition. They looked as if they were rarely worn, well taken care of and highly prized. She noted how they were made of a nicer, and probably more expensive material. And she remembered how the room she had stayed in was covered in a thick layer of dust, empty and blocked off.

The queen shook her head of ill thoughts before looking forward, anticipating the long journey ahead of her.

* * *

**AN: L****et me know if I write Elsa too out of character. I'm always worried I'm writing her too weak. In the beginning of my story, Elsa might be written out of character considering the situation she's in. If I had Elsa in Arendelle then of course I'll have her in-character, but she's way out of her comfort zone here. She's been striped down to just a regular person. A regular person who has a pack of bandits after her.**

**And even if that wasn't the case, the movie doesn't do a whole lot for her character except for the whole concealed-freedom shtick, which only makes sense because the movie focuses more on Anna. We really only see a sort of hot/cold approach to her character in the film where she's either a terrified, stressed out queen, or a free spirit singing about how she's no longer a terrified, stressed out queen. I was a little disappointed there was no real sass in her, being that Idina Menzel does her voice and all.**

**Thanks again for the support! **

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	4. Day One

**AN: Thanks for the reviews! Glad to see I got a few more followers. Keep it up! Here's another chapter for you guys!**

**This chapter is shorter than the other chapters because I had to cut the original draft in half. It was originally supposed to include a cutaway to Arendelle, with Anna and Kristoff. It was running way too long for my liking and I didn't want to have to worry about downsizing and cutting out potentially important material.**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (1/21/16)**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or its characters.**

* * *

Despite the circumstances, there was something actually quite freeing about traveling with a complete stranger.

As a queen, Elsa always had to maintain a certain image. An image of a royal. An image of total perfection.

She needed to walk, talk, sit, eat and dress like someone who was above the common level of society. She needed to project an irrefutable sense of authority and strength and dignity at all times, especially when she stood in the public view. And when she was among her people, she was expected to act bigger than she was, greater than she was. As far as her people were concerned, she was ethereal. Something greater than the average man that they could look to for leadership and wisdom in times of both peace and prosperity, and conflict and hardship. At no point during her day was she truly permitted to act like herself.

Yes, after a rocky start, her people had slowly grown to respect and accept her as their ice queen, but just because she no longer had to hide her powers behind closed doors, didn't mean there was no longer any expectations. She wasn't as free as Anna was. Even during her downtime, her royal conditioning still lingered. She still couldn't sleep in late during lazy Summer mornings. She couldn't walk around the castle in her pajamas after having just rolled out of bed, with her hair in complete disarray and dried drool on her chin. She couldn't slurp her soup. She couldn't slouch in her chair. She couldn't yawn too loudly (or at all, really. Too disrespectful), or pick at her nails and teeth in front of others. She couldn't be human, basically.

Even though it was proven during her coronation that Elsa could be just as irresponsible and imperfect as her clumsy, baby sister - she was still expected to act perfect. To maintain that "holier than thou" image.

However, in regards to here and now, it made her current situation just a tad more bearable when she realized something very important.

Inside this dense forest, in the middle of unknown territory, with a grumpy stranger as her guide - the young woman was no longer Queen Elsa of Arendelle, the regal ruler of ice and snow. She was just Elsa Snow; the stranded maiden just trying to find her way back home after a nasty run-in with a group of bandits that resulted in her impromptu displacement. The story she had spun portrayed her as normal. She was an ordinary person with no significant ties to anything noteworthy or valuable other than a job as a barmaid in a small tavern run by her make-believe uncle. And she felt a burst of pure euphoria the moment she realized what having no royal title truly meant for her.

It started with a small ache, along the small of her back. After sitting upright as stiff as a board for almost three hours straight, she was starting to feel the annoying aches and pangs. At first, she forced herself to ignore them. She reminded herself that slouching on horseback was just as undignified as slouching at the dinner table. However, it was only after she remembered that she was no longer in her kingdom, strolling through the market where her citizens could scrutinize her every movement - that she realized she could relax.

So, in a very unladylike fashion, Elsa let her stiff shoulders sag and her back bend outwards as far as her corset would allow until she was practically slumped over the ears of her horse. She let out a soft sigh as the tension in her muscles was released and she was able to stretch freely without the worry of prying eyes.

After that first release of royal conditioning, Elsa smiled for the first time since saying goodbye to Tobias. It was bright and genuine, as opposed to sad and grateful. The gesture was small, but it was like releasing a dam of pent up tension in a form different from her ice powers. She let the smile linger until her face hurt, and then she smiled even more, like some crazy, grinning fool. She knew it probably looked a little strange to any outside spectator, but Logan was ahead of her, paying her absolutely no mind, so she didn't bother forcing herself to stop.

He hadn't spoken to her since their departure earlier that morning. She didn't mind the silence, especially considering that every word he had said to her so far was rude and far too self-assured. She was grateful when all conversation ceased as soon as they left Tobias' land. He mumbled under his breath occasionally when he would pull out a map from one of their packs and look over it every time they switched trails, but not much else beyond that. Whenever she heard him utter some sort of sound, her blue eyes would flicker up from her gloved hands and land on his back, half expecting him to turn around and say something, but he never did. She eventually stopped looking up whenever he made a noise. It got all the way to the point where she had almost forgotten he was even there with her. So when he finally did decide to speak again, she was nearly startled by the sound of his voice.

"I've been wondering something," he suddenly announced.

She eyed his back again, uncertain. "Yes?"

"Do you know why Dag kept you?"

"No...but I'd imagine women are abducted all the time during raids."

"You're right, they are," He shot her a glance over his shoulder. "But that's not what I asked. I asked if you knew why he _kept_ you. Not why he _took_ you. Bandits will take just about anything that isn't red hot and bolted to the floor, but they won't actually keep much of it afterwards. They sell what's valuable, eat what's edible, and kill what's still living, including people if they don't have any value. Tobias mentioned you were imprisoned for more than a week, right? That's way too long to keep someone alive, especially if it's a woman. They would've used you and killed you off days ago if you didn't serve a higher purpose to them."

She narrowed her eyes at his back, not liking the direction their conversation was headed. "Are you speaking from experience? I do not know much about bandits and thugs, nor do I want to, but it sounds like you do. Quite a bit actually."

He let out a sardonic laugh. "Honey, when you've dealt with one group of bandits, you've dealt with them all. Or at least with the lackeys anyway. Hive mind, practically. Only the leaders and second in commands hold any true depth. The grunts on the bottom of the chain are all just kill, steal, destroy, rape and kill some more. The only way you're still here, breathing, talking and shooting dirty looks at the back of my head - is if you got the attention of the leader somehow."

"I'm sorry. I really don't understand where you're going with-"

"Something's off about this whole thing and I think you might have some idea why that is," he interrupted, throwing her another look over his shoulder.

Elsa let out a small huff. Why did he have to be so cold? Why was he treating her like _she_ was the criminal? If anything, she should be the suspicious one, not him. He was the one who was sketchy and potentially dangerous. She wouldn't exactly call it being passive aggressive (she was a royal who had to deal with other royals. She knew how to spot those signs a mile away), he was far too direct for that, but he was still difficult to pin down.

"I've told you everything I know already."

"Actually, no, you haven't."

Without warning, Logan pulled on his horse's reigns and jerked to the right to block Elsa's horse, forcing the queen to pull suddenly on her reigns as well. He took up the width of the trail, preventing her from moving forward, before fixing her with a bored stare through the dark strands of hair that hung in front of his eyes. "And that's exactly what I've been trying to get at here."

Elsa blinked vacantly at him.

"The _lies_, Sugar," he clarified dryly. "I don't do business with people who lie to me. It makes me believe I can't trust you, and I can't have that."

"What makes you think I'm lying to you?" she asked, keeping a straight face.

He rolled his eyes, biting his tongue to keep himself from snapping at the woman.

Did she really think he was that dense? The fair-haired woman wasn't nearly as inconspicuous as she thought she was. Sure, she talked a decent game, he had to admit. The fear and uncertainty from her current predicament helped fuel her outer image of a distressed maiden, but there were obvious giveaways that Logan picked up on immediately. Little signs that she couldn't readily hide behind a trembling voice that, in all honesty, didn't really fool him either.

She was trying too hard. She was scared, rightfully so, but she wasn't the person she was trying to be. Logan didn't necessarily know why, or what she was trying to hide, but he was up to that point where he was ready to poke a few holes in that shoddy backstory she tried to feed him back at Mylinda's tavern. The only reason he had agreed to help "Elsa" in the first place was because Tobias asked him to, and although he and the old man didn't always see eye to eye, Logan couldn't ignore how indebted he still was to the older gentleman.

However, an old life debt would only get Tobias and the suspicious girl so far. Logan had a certain set of rules he lived by and not even the promise of a hefty payment could get him to break even one of them. He gave her a pointed glare before deciding to finally shatter her lie to pieces.

"Well, for starters, let's talk about your clothes from last night," he begun matter-of-factly, as if he was about to conduct business. He leaned his arms against the horn of his saddle and gave her an easy look. "I've been in a lot of taverns in my lifetime and I have never seen a bar maiden as finely dressed as you were. Now, I'm not exactly an expert on women's fashion, but I do know that was a party dress. A _ball_ dress, more specifically, and an expensive one at that," he rattled off before leaning forward on his horse. "Also-"

Elsa flinched when she saw his hand shoot out towards her face, but didn't move when she only felt him tug lightly on a strand of blonde hair that had escaped her braid. She immediately slapped his hand away and fixed him with a glare, but where she meant for it to be scathing, Logan only smirked.

"Other being a little unkempt, your hair's healthy, and so's your skin. Bar maids aren't lowly peasants, but - and not that I'm trying to flatter you or anything - you have very nice skin and hair. Too nice, if you catch my drift. And not to mention the most obvious thing of all-"

He pointed towards her hands holding the reigns of her horse. Even though they were now covered by gloves, Logan remembered how they looked last night. The skin looked soft like the rest of her, and her fingernails looked like they had once been neatly manicured before being chewed down by stress and fear.

"-those dainty little hands of your's don't look as if they've seen a day's worth of hard work in their life."

Elsa didn't really appreciate him using the word "dainty" in reference to anything of hers, but she couldn't deny he was right on some level. She would argue, however, that signing an entire summer's worth of trade treaties, civil contacts and general kingdom paperwork in under just one week (after ending an epic winter storm she had created), was most certainly hard work (very hard work). However, other than a developing case of early Carpal Tunnel, penmanship didn't exactly leave the skin of her palms calloused and rough.

She looked back up at him and noted with poorly masked disdain that he was smirking at her again, his eyes just daring her to try to squirm her way out of the corner he had backed her into.

"So?" he asked. "You wanna stick with your lost maiden story, or are you going to cut the crap and tell me the truth before I decide to just leave you right here in the middle of the road?"

His hazel eyes hardened and he looked her straight in the eye, unwavering and entirely hypnotic. He conveyed without words that he was nothing but dead serious about abandoning her on the road. Elsa sat there on top of her horse, unsure of how to respond. She was caught in her lie. Caught red-handed with no hope of salvaging a decent backup, or even a pitiful excuse from the scattered fragments.

The last time the queen had felt this busted after lying was when she and Anna were little kids and she had accidentally knocked over a very fancy vase with a snowball. The two princesses tried to clean up the evidence, but they were interrupted by their father who had heard the crash from his study and had come to investigate. They played dumb about it since the snow had already melted. They pulled their best puppy-dog faces and told their father the vase was already broken when they found it. And since they were just children trying to avoid a timeout, they tried to place the blame on a servant because it was the only thing they could think of and nobody was around to prove otherwise. The king wasn't fooled though, not for a second. The telltale puddle on the ground and water stains on the vase shards allowed their father to come to a different conclusion.

They didn't get dessert for a week after that - much to Anna's great dismay. They also got a stern talking to, which Anna brushed off almost immediately, along with everything else as soon as her week of punishment was over. But their father's words lingered in Elsa's head for months after that, much like they always did. Not very surprising though, since Elsa took the blunt of the lecture. It wasn't so much as he was angry about the vase, but more that they tried to lie about it, and then even more so, they tried to place the blame on one of their servants. Good queens didn't do that.

Logan had that same look in his eye as her father did. That "I-already-know-you-did-it-so-you-might-as-well-fess-up" look. It obviously didn't hold the same power and control over her as her father's did since she had no real qualms about lying to a total stranger, as opposed to her loving parent, but it was still unsettling.

Though his tone held a constant sarcastic undertone to it, Logan spoke clearly and confidently. He was educated, much more than Elsa initially gave him credit for, and she was forced to bare the full impact of that mistake as she sat there, caught and potentially exposed, as her guide picked her story apart, piece by piece.

He might be nothing but a thug as far as she was concerned, but he had a way with words and a keen sense of observation that she had only seen in proud kings like her father. It made her wonder just what kind of trouble she was traveling with and how careful she needed to be around him. She rationalized the red flags in her head by telling herself that Tobias wouldn't have put her on this path unless he was confident Logan could complete her task, but it was difficult to stick to that belief when her guide was just so goddamn unsettling. That was really the only word she could come up with to describe him. Though she was wary around strangers in general, he only succeeded in raising the bar that much higher.

Nevertheless, nothing was going to stop the snow queen from getting back home to her kingdom, back home to Anna. Not even him.

"Alright, you caught me," Elsa sighed, pulling her best poker face as she thought of another, more convincing lie that, more or less, brushed intimately with the truth. "I serve as a chambermaid for Princess Anna of Arendelle."

Logan cocked an eyebrow at her, but didn't say anything, silently prompting her to continue.

She would really rather keep Anna completely out of this, but there was no way she was going to convince this man that she has lived anywhere else beyond the walls of a castle.

"I've lived and worked inside the castle my entire life and I am very close with the princess. We're practically sisters, in fact. She gave me one of her dresses to wear to her wedding because I was attending the ceremony as her maid of honor, not as one of the servants. When the bandits attacked...I think they must've somehow mistaken me for her. I didn't tell you because I was afraid you wouldn't help me because of my close connection with the royal family," she explained before bowing her head in false submission and looking up at him with wide eyes, hoping to come off as innocent as possible before adding, "I'm sorry."

Like hell she was actually sorry for lying to him, but it wouldn't hurt to see how far female charm could get her.

Using her looks wasn't a method Elsa liked to exercise often. She preferred using her words rather than her pretty face to leave men speechless Most neighboring kingdoms found her rather unsuspecting until she managed to prove otherwise during treaty signings and debates. But any advantage she could use, she was more than willing to.

Evidently, her "female charm" didn't get her very far at all. Logan remained considerably unimpressed. He continued to scrutinize her, and once she realized he wasn't going to be disadvantaged by her looks, she dropped the charade, knowing for sure now that he wasn't as stupid or gullible as the average male. She held her ground and met his stare head on with expertly forged confidence. His gaze lingered on hers for a few more seconds before he scoffed. She expected him to call her out again, to tear her new story apart like he had done the old one. She expected him to turn his horse around and leave her there in the road...

"Don't lie to me again," was all he said though, in a very clear warning, before he pulled on his reigns and continued down the forest path.

Elsa watched his back until he was further up the road before letting out a sigh and rolling her eyes up towards the sky in relief. That was close.

She caught up with him seconds later and they traveled for another few hours along a network of dirt roads before Logan finally stopped them for the night. They stepped off the dirt road and moved further into the surrounding forest until they found a spot to set up camp. From there, Logan dismounted his horse and immediately got to work with unloading their supplies. Elsa followed suite, carefully maneuvering her skirts so she could bring her leg over to one side and step back down to the ground. She let out another sigh when the pressure of the hard saddle underneath her bottom finally left and she was able to stretch her legs. She doubted that she had ever ridden on horseback that long in her entire life. Her legs felt loose like noodles as she took a few hesitant steps, but her muscles eventually relearned how to function properly and she was able to move about without stumbling.

She stood next to her horse, unsure of what she should be doing. Logan was still unloading supplies from his horse and Elsa was about to start doing the same with hers but stopped when she realized she had no idea what to take down. Should she just take it all off? Would that be okay? Or are there only a few certain things that needed to be unloaded? If she took it all off, would it be a hassle to put it all back on in the morning? There was quite a lot of supplies here...

"Hey, don't touch anything," Logan called out, solving Elsa's dilemma for her. "I'll do it."

"Then what am I suppose to do?" she asked, stepping away from the supplies.

"Stay out of the way."

She rolled her eyes at his rude brush-off as she turned away from her horse and started exploring the area they would be camping in for the night. She barely got three feet away before Logan called out again.

"And don't wander off. It's almost dusk. I don't want to have to root around in the dark, tripping over tree roots and falling on my ass all night just because you went and got yourself lost."

He barely even looked at her as his hands worked at unbinding one of their packs from the horse's saddle. Elsa wasn't even going to dignify his comment with a response. It wouldn't solve anything and it would probably only encourage him to talk more_,_ and she definitely didn't want that. She only rolled her eyes again as she made her way over to a large rock and sat down on top of it where she proceeded to "stay out of the way".

Things went on like that for a while, with Logan unloading supplies and Elsa sitting off to the side with her elbows on her knees and her chin in her palms, actually feeling a little bored, until the man dropped one of the bags on the ground and crouched down next to it. He rummaged through it, mumbling softly under his breath before pulling out something in a leather bound pouch tied closed with twine string.

"You need to eat something," he said.

He turned to Elsa and tossed the pouch in her direction, not even waiting to see if she would catch it. The queen nearly stumbled off her rock as she lurched forward to catch the package thrown at her. It slipped from her gloved fingers when she first caught it, but she was able to get another grip on it when she scrambled to catch it a second time, right before it hit the ground. Once she was sure it wouldn't slip again, Elsa shot an annoyed glare at Logan's back.

'_Thanks for the warning, jerk._'

She re-situated herself on her rock and looked down at the pouch resting in her lap. She turned it over curiously, prodding it with her fingertips until she found the little knot in the twine that kept the pouch closed. Not feeling particularly hungry, but also not in the mood to risk another confrontation with Logan, Elsa exhaled through her nose as she worked at untying the knot. At first she picked idly at it, trying to pull it loose with her nails, but when she realized it wasn't coming undone because her gloves were still on, she let out an annoyed sigh. For the next several minutes, the dignified queen battled fiercely with the knotted twine in her lap, almost to the point where she became frustrated enough to try and undo it with her teeth. She was so focused on untangling the knot, she didn't notice that she was being observed until she heard someone scoff.

"Here, I think you'd have better luck if you took these off-"

A hand entered her vision from the corner of her eye. Elsa gasped loudly at the sudden movement, startling both of them. Out of habit, she had yanked her hands back towards her body just as Logan crouched down next to her rock and reached out to grab her gloved fingers.

There was a long moment of silence as her guide stared at her.

"What-"

"Sorry!" she apologized quickly, cutting him off. She let out a forced, dismissive laugh at herself and smiled disarmingly, hoping to defuse the sudden tension between them and ease the confused look Logan was giving her. "You just startled me. I wasn't expecting you to...I'm sorry."

He didn't say anything. He just frowned at her with his brow knitted tightly, giving her a wary once-over before standing back up and moving towards his horse to finish unloading the supplies.

If the atmosphere grew more awkward than it was to begin with after that, Logan didn't comment on it, which Elsa was grateful for. Once camp was set up and a fire was built, they sat on opposite sides of it and kept to themselves. There couldn't have been more than a few feet between them, but it might as well have been miles with how distant they both seemed to each other. Not that it really bothered the queen. Elsa still sat on her rock with her cloak wrapped around her and her gloves still on while Logan lounged across the ground on his side with the weight of his torso propped up on his forearm. They ate a meal that consisted of mostly bread and dried deer meet in silence as they watched the flames dance on the ground in front of them.

After a while, Logan sat up to shrug off his suspenders to get more comfortable, letting them hang freely against the sides of his pants. He rearranged one of his packs into a makeshift pillow before laying down on his back. He still didn't say anything to her, but the dry, half-lidded look he shot at her from over the fire told the queen that she should get some sleep. They would be leaving at dawn again and it wouldn't help either of them if she fell asleep on her horse, like she almost did today.

She stayed on top of her rock of solitude for a little while longer before gingerly slipping off of it. She lowered herself on top of a nearby patch of grass. It wasn't exactly a nice mattress, or even a lumpy cot, but she didn't really care. It was better than sleeping on the floor of a filthy dungeon cell. Her cloak helped soften things up, and once she followed Logan's lead and used a pack for a pillow, she found that she might actually be able to get some rest.

The sounds of crackling wood, chirping crickets, and even Logan's steady breathing, helped create a mellow atmosphere where Elsa felt comfortable enough to allow herself to relax. She turned on to her side and pulled her cloak tighter around herself. It wasn't a particularly chilly night, not like the night before. She did it more for show and comfort. Her blue eyes fell on the burning fire, slowly becoming mesmerized by the weaving flames.

As she waited for sleep to claim her, the events of the day started to replay through her mind. She wondered how exactly things had gotten to the point where they were now; her laying in the forest floor with an unfamiliar face, both barely managing to mask their mutual contempt towards their situation, and no doubt, towards each other.

She supposed epic, life changing journeys with strange men ran in the family. She could certainly see a pattern beginning to form.

When Anna first regaled the adventurous tale of how their cousin, Rapunzel, and her husband, Eugene, had first met and fallen in love, Elsa had been utterly struck to hear that sweethearted Rapunzel had befriended a tavern full of dangerous thieves and scoundrels. It was difficult to imagine someone so similar to Anna interacting with anyone from the rougher side of society voluntarily, let alone successfully. The queen could understand if her cousin had done it to lore the thick-headed criminals into a false sense of security in order for her and Eugene to make their escape, but to fully establish a friendship with those people? To invite them to her _wedding_? It may have tickled Anna's fancy to no end, but it completely left Elsa shocked and speechless.

Now, that's not to say that Elsa didn't believe that bad people could do good deeds and turn their lives around, but did Rapunzel ever take the time to consider that most criminals were exceedingly good at lying and manipulating? Probably not. Eugene, maybe, since he had been one himself not too long ago. But Rapunzel could be just as trusting as Anna sometimes. It was just sheer luck that none of her cousin's "friends" ever felt the urge to turn on her in some way once Rapunzel was reinstated as a royal or take advantage of her new title. Maybe the snow queen was wrong in that regard (to each their own, and whatnot), but trusting people easily just wasn't in her nature. She didn't want to believe that she was someone who thought the absolute worse of people, but she could admit she was a bit of a pessimist sometimes. Anna was the optimistic sister.

In any case, though, that was all just Elsa's opinion. Corona wasn't her kingdom and Rapunzel was family. Just as long as Elsa could stay as far away from the brutes when her cousin visited without seeming more standoffish than she already was, she didn't really care what kind of company her cousin kept.

Anna, on the other hand - Elsa would soon rather nail the hyperactive girl's feet to the floor than let her frolic through seedy taverns, befriending supposed axe murderers and hook-handed, wannabe pianists. Kristoff seemed to think along the same lines, after catching the adventurous gleam in his girlfriend's eye, knowing that he would be forced to follow along with whatever crazy scheme Anna decided to act out (it was a twenty-four hour job being Princess Anna's sweetheart).

However, after her kidnapping and imprisonment by this "Dag" character and his gang of bandits, things had most definitely been put into perspective for Elsa. It was only then that she finally realized why Rapunzel acted so trusting towards her Yellow Duckling bunch of brutes. As high as those men ranked on the scale of malevolent and insidious behavior; they were just a bunch of stray dogs. Dogs that only look mangy and dangerous on the outside. Dogs that talked big and greatly exaggerated their criminal exploits with grisly details and mean scowls. Dogs that would drop their "tough guy" charade at the first sign of acceptance, affection and sunshine in their dismal lives, which came in the perfect form of Rapunzel, who had inspired them to leave behind their criminal ways and achieve their life dreams, however ridiculous and whimsical they might be.

Elsa was not dealing with stray dogs.

Elsa was dealing with wolves.

Rabid wolves, readily willing to tear into flesh and spill blood at the first sign of command from their pack leader. Willing to take other people's lives and destroy entire villages in an instant if it pleased the man who held their leashes and filled their bowls with riches and the promise of violence. They were dangerous just on their own, but under the leadership of an evil man like the one she had encountered, they could only do so much worse. From what Elsa had seen so far, they left a path of destruction and death wherever they went, and now they were currently biting at her heels, aiming for the huge bullseye painted on the queen's back, which could only lead to disaster if they ever caught up with her again.

However, in light of the here and now, the only question that Elsa really needed to ask herself was one that pertained to her "gracious" escort.

Her blue eyes trailed over the top of the flames in front of her, over to the figure across the way who was laying on his back and staring up at the stars shining above them while tapping his fingers rhythmically against his chest in some quite, unheard tune.

Which one was Logan? A stray dog with no true bite looking for love and acceptance (she doubted it), or a savage wolf, howling and begging to launch himself at the queen as soon as her back was turned? If even Elsa_, _the innocent one_,_ had a double motive in this thing, what double motives could he possibly be harboring?

Or, was this man, this sketchy, rude, thug for hire - something else entirely?

Elsa couldn't decide.

The only thing that she was certain about, as she finally felt herself nodding off, was that her journey _was_ _not _going to end the same way Anna and Rapunzel's did. And whether that meant returning home happy and healthy with a storybook ending, or falling in love with a rogue, or returning alive at all...Elsa couldn't decided that either.

And in all honesty, she was terrified to find out.

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**AN: Alrighty then, another chapter down. I think that's the only time I'll reference Tangled that heavily. I just thought it would be interesting to throw that in there. I always imagined Anna being tickled pink about the tavern full of thugs Rapunzel befriended, thinking it extremely exciting and romantic while Elsa would just be thinking "the fuck? Is this woman crazy?". And of course, the filler helps lends itself to the bandits chasing Elsa and the possibility that Logan could be just as bad.**

**Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading my new chapter. Don't forget to keep reviewing! Happy Easter!**

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	5. Anna and Kristoff I

**AN: Once again, thanks for the reviews and follows! Keep them coming!**

**I'm sorry that it took me longer then I said to get this chapter out. Finals really snuck up on me this semester. I didn't realize just how much work there was until nearly the last minute. Usually I'm pretty good at balancing FanFiction with schoolwork, but I had to put my stories aside this time, just for a little bit. It was really frustrating actually, because I was _so close_ to finishing this chapter when it happened, there really wasn't much left to do and it drove me crazy knowing that. Still though, gotta do what ya gotta do. College sucks, man.**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (1/17/16)**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or its characters. I only own the characters you don't recognize.**

* * *

Ever since the attack of the bandits and queen Elsa's abduction, the usually bright kingdom of Arendelle seemed to take on a permanent atmosphere of near-suffocating gloom. It was unsettling and unnatural.

Or at least, that's what it seemed like to Kristoff, who had been an outside observer of the kingdom ever since he could remember.

Perhaps the sun still shined as if nothing was amiss, and perhaps the birds still chirped and the waves of the harbor still churned, and the last ice harvest of the year was still coming to a close with what little remained of the warm weather, but there was a noticeable stagnation in the air, even worse than the one during the Great Freeze, two years ago. A proverbial storm cloud hung over the Arendelle castle, putting a heavy damper on the moods of everyone inside. Everyone worried for their missing queen, but none so more than the redheaded princess, who had taken to sulking in her bedroom for three days straight now after their latest search party had, yet again, turned up absolutely nothing that would lead them to their queen.

The sudden dip in Anna's upbeat behavior was uncharacteristic, especially in recent days.

Even in the face of her neverending worry, Anna remained optimistic when she first spearheaded an epic search for her sister just hours after the bandits' raid. It caused more of a stir than what the kingdom was probably ready for, but she had just about every able-bodied citizen in Arendelle out looking for Elsa, demanding that they search every square inch of the surrounding forests and territories. Kristoff had never seen the redhead so hot-blooded and determined to do something, and that was really saying something since this was the same girl who tried to scale a mountain at a hundred and eighty degree angle with absolutely no climbing equipment other than her hands and feet. It truly was a remarkable sight, seeing Anna take so much charge.

Now, if only she could manage her overall composure as well as she did Elsa's search parties, then maybe they would've actually turned up something useful by now.

Though the obvious devotion Anna had for her sister was admirable, the searches she conducted were rather counterproductive in some cases, unrealistic in others, and borderline aggressive in most. Kristoff couldn't even remember how many times he had to literally drag his fiance away from a random street vendor after her poor attempts at haggling information went seriously awry.

Even if Anna was determined to do something about Elsa's abduction (instead of "sitting around and being useless like a bunch of singing rock trolls" as she so eloquently put it), she was impatient and rather narrow-focused when it came to the big picture, and although that was pretty standard Anna behavior, even absentminded beings like Olaf couldn't help but notice that it was rubbing certain people the wrong way, namely neighboring kingdoms. Naturally, they didn't appreciate the royal guards of Arendelle combing through their territories without permission and the princess interrogating their citizens and then accusing them of being part of a conspiracy when they failed to disclose any useful leads.

Usually in cases where Anna's lack of grace and royal bedside manner caused a stir with other royals, Elsa was there to smooth over the rough corners her little sister might've impulsively cut, but now that the queenly peacekeeper was gone, that left Kristoff to deal with things. And since he had no idea how to deal with royals, he opted to just following Anna around everywhere she went while working with Sven and Olaf to keep her out of trouble, which wasn't necessarily an easy feat either since the ice harvester, more often than not, ended up babysitting _all three. _But it was _way_ better than the alternative.

Anna stayed optimistic through it all, but only because she had to for her own sake. Sort of like a "If I'm not laughing, I'm crying" type deal. She refused to let anything get to her; their completely ruined wedding that both sisters worked their fingers to the bone to plan, the damage the bandit raid caused to their castle garden and the number of casualties they left behind like garbage (which wasn't as high as it could've been, thankfully, but what little they _did_ lose was still no less devastating), and the total panic the citizens fell into when news of the raid and Elsa's kidnapping spread through the rest of the kingdom.

The panic was probably the hardest to deal with, but Kai, being the champ that he was, dealt with most of it. He told the gathered masses of squabbling townsfolk that the princess was held up safely in the castle, under the fierce protection of Arendelle's royal guard just in case the bandits came back. In reality, Kristoff and the sisters' head chambermaid, Gerda, practically had to wrestle the strawberry blonde to the ground to keep her from mounting Sven and riding off into the forest to look for Elsa without a single sense of direction. As soon as Kai got control of the citizens with his amazing powers of reassurance, Anna jumped into action and started conducting search parties with determined vigor. She chose to approach the whole thing the only way she knew how; in her uniquely Anna-style fashion.

However, as the days continued to pass with absolutely no word or clues as to where the queen was and who exactly had taken her - optimism began to gradually dwindle.

With the Great Freeze she had more of a proactive approach, knowing that Elsa couldn't have (and wouldn't have) gone very far on foot. Anna had seen the direction the queen had fled in and knew which way to go. Then, to further her good fortune, she ran into Kristoff at Oaken's trading post and he revealed that the storms were coming in from the North Mountain, which was then soon followed by the epic adventure that changed both their lives. But now, the circumstances were very different, and not in a good way. The bandits had gone just as quickly as they came and had left behind nothing but damaged property, a despondent kingdom, and more than a dozen ruined lives and broken families. They tried everything they could think of to pick up the bandits' trail, but there was next to nothing, and what little there actually was, the trails would all go cold after so many miles out.

It was a bittersweet sort of thing, naturally. They now knew that the bandits were no longer in Arendelle territory, and that they probably weren't in any neighboring kingdoms either, but that did nothing to narrow the search, not really. Yes, the possibility of Elsa being held captive and hidden right under their noses was out, but now they had to face the reality that their queen could literally be just about _anywhere_ at this point. And that was _not_ an easy revelation to deal with, regardless if you were the queen's sister, the queen's future brother-in-law, or the queen's followers. The disappointment was felt all over.

So that was generally how Kristoff found himself where he was now; standing way off to the side in Anna's bedroom, at a loss for something more productive to do while his melancholic fiance sat on the bench of her window, staring out through the stained-glass with a view overlooking the entire kingdom like a lonely widow waiting for her lost husband to return from sea.

A little melodramatic, yes, but he couldn't think of any better way to describe it.

Olaf sat on the bench next to her with his snowball feet hanging over the side and an unusually pensive look on his face. His snow flurry still floated above his head and his twig arms tapped nervously against each other as he tried to deal with the long silence they had been sitting in for quite some time now. It made him uncomfortable, being the social creature that he was, but he knew if he made any noise, it would annoy Anna and she would kick him out of her room again. The princess had become uncharacteristically snappish and easily agitated ever since she came back from the latest search party, empty-handed. On more than one occasion, she nearly yelled at the snowman to leave her alone when he tried to cheer her up by giving her a hug, even going so far as to push him aside with her foot; an action that may, or may not, have been done a little harder than necessary. (Kristoff told the little guy not to take it personally. _He_ certainly didn't. Anna had been biting his head off left and right for days now.)

She had become apathetic to pretty much anything that didn't involve looking for Elsa. Her wedding dress still laid discarded on a chair in the corner of the room. She had yet to give it over to her maids so they could clean out the grass marks on the skirt that obscenely stained the dove white material. Anna had been so excited about wearing that dress, her _mother's_ dress. Kristoff had to give Elsa some serious points for that. He couldn't think of a better wedding gift even if he tried. Anna had never looked so beautiful as when he first saw her enter the castle garden, walking- wait, no _gliding_, down the gorgeously decorated wedding aisle with her sheer, lacey veil flowing behind her and her arm linked tightly with her sister's, who strolled proudly next to her with her usual queenly poise and grace.

Kristoff wasn't much of a romantic (or at least, that's what he always told himself), but that moment had been absolutely perfect. He had his doubts, his pre-wedding cold feet, just like any man would when he was about to marry the love of his life, but it all seemed to drift away when he finally saw Anna in her wedding dress. He remembered the way her green eyes darted anxiously around the garden, taking in the smiling faces of their wedding guests before they looked towards the altar and met Kristoff's. She gave him a nervous smile and a shy wave with the hand holding her bouquet (nearly making her drop it), which Kristoff returned with a big, goofy smile of his own. That moment made it all okay again. His doubts were eased, he was no longer as nervous as he was, his stuffy wedding suit felt a little looser, and he knew he was in the right place.

Yes, it was perfect.

But now, it was all gone, it was ruined, leaving behind nothing but a distraught bride and an albatross of guilt for the groom, who knew he should've done more to stop the chaos from upheaving their lives and felt horrible about it. He would've gone back for Elsa if he could, of course he would've, but there was no going back for the queen with the bandit leader standing menacingly over her fallen form. The red-cladded villain had an intimidating-looking blade held tightly in his hand and Kristoff had no doubt that he was more than willing to use it on anyone who dared cross him.

Anna never outright blamed him for not going back for Elsa, and maybe she really didn't, but Kristoff feared that she did. However, in lieu of other, more important matters, he tried not to focus too much on that. The _main_ problem was that Anna saw all of this as a waiting game, still clinging desperately on to her optimistic nature. She believed that if she held out long enough, Elsa would eventually turn up on her own. Kristoff didn't even try to talk her into considering...the alternative. That Elsa might be gone.

He didn't _like_ thinking that way, of course. He and Elsa weren't exactly the best of friends yet, but they were united in their deep love for Anna and Kristoff had come to care for the queen too, almost like the sister she would soon become to him. Anna wouldn't be the only one devastated by the queen's permanent absence. But it was a grim possibility that they would eventually need to acknowledge.

There was a loud knock on the door, pulling everyone in the room from their silent thoughts.

Olaf stopped tapping his twigs together as his eyes flickered up towards the door before shifting sideways to look at Kristoff. Anna didn't move from her spot.

"I'll get it," Kristoff announced quietly, his voice a little hoarse from misuse. He pushed off from the wall and made his way over to Anna's bedroom door.

When he opened it, Kristoff's eyebrows disappeared up into his blonde bangs when he saw the man standing on the other side of the door. He felt an unpleasant mixture of curiosity and apprehension when he recognized the man to be a member of the kingdom council. The ice harvester couldn't remember the official's name, but he had seen him around before, at balls and festivals with the other members. He was short and portly, with a belly that strained slightly against the buttons of his uniform. He had long, salt-and-pepper colored hair that was slicked back against his scalp and pulled into a ponytail at the base of his skull. There was also a small pair of eyeglasses perched on the tip of his partially bulbous nose.

Kristoff blinked down at the man.

"Oh, hey there, councilman..."

"Baard," The stout man finished.

"Yes, councilman Baard. Sorry," He smiled sheepishly before giving the official a questioning look. "So what can I do for you, sir?"

"I was hoping I could speak with Princess Anna," He said. "About some matters pertaining to the council."

Kristoff let out an uneasy hiss as he rubbed the back of his head, shooting a quick glance over his shoulder at his fiance before looking down at the other man with a frown. "You know, councilman, with much respect, I'm not so sure this is the best time..."

"As I would imagine so, but I'm afraid this is very important and must be addressed as soon as possible."

"Well..." Kristoff drawled as he rubbed his chin. "I guess if it's important I can let you try, but no promises she'll be much help."

He stepped aside to allow the official to enter.

"Of course, thank you, Master Bjorgman," Baard bowed his head in gratitude as he stepped into the room.

With practiced class and ramrod posture, the short man made his way purposefully across the room where the princess stared forlornly out the large, triangular window of her bedroom.

"Hello there, sir," Olaf greeted the official from the ground with a big smile and a wave. "You look kinda down today. Do you wanna a hug?"

"Perhaps later," He replied dismissively as he sidestepped the snowman. He stopped a respectful distance from where the princess sat, his back straight and his feet together. He barely gave the talking snowman a second glance. After almost two years of seeing it scurry around the castle, offering hugs to anyone who would allow it, Baard had gotten over the novelty of the strange creature a long time ago. "Princess Anna?"

The strawberry blonde gave a noncommittal grunt of acknowledgement as she continued to stare out the window.

"I have a list here-" Councilman Baard started, skipping the usual platitudes as he reached inside his olive green jacket and fished out a scroll. "-of tasks that the council would like me to discuss with you-"

"Give it to Kai. He'll handle it."

The official lagged for a moment, a bit thrown by the princess' calloused brush-off. "Yes...Well, I'm afraid, your majesty, these aren't issues I can discuss with the head servant."

"And why not?" She asked dryly, still not taking her eyes from the window. "He did just fine running the castle before Elsa became queen. I'm sure he can do it again until she comes back."

"These aren't just matters of the castle, your highness. This list includes affairs of the kingdom as a whole. There are certain things that require royal authorization. Something the head servant cannot give."

Anna let out a long-suffered sigh, waving indifferently at the council official. "Well, then just put those things aside in a "Later" pile and Elsa will deal with them when she gets home."

The older gentlemen blinked slowly at the princess, his bushy eyebrows raising above the rims of his glasses. "Your highness, you are aware of what all this means, don't you? In the event that queen Elsa...doesn't come back, it will be expected of _you_ to take her place."

A painful silence fell over the room as Kristoff and Olaf cringed at the foolish man's words. The room got so quiet, the lively fireplace in the corner of the room that had been crackling so distinctly just a few moments ago, seemed to give way to the silence. Kristoff shot a nervous glance in his fiance's direction, biting his lower lip. Anna had become completely rigid, and even though she was still facing the window, Kristoff knew the princess had probably gone as pale as a ghost.

Baard had said _the thing_. The forbidden _thing_. _The thing_ that everybody in the castle had gone considerably out of their way to avoid saying. _The thing_ that would mostly certainly cause the princess to completely freak out.

And she did. It took everything inside her small body not to start hyperventilating right on the spot.

Take Elsa's place? As in, take her place as _queen_?

Oh God, she hadn't even thought of that.

Oh God, _oh God_, she hadn't even thought of that!

Anna's brain, previously teetering on the edge of catatonia, was suddenly alive and active again, jump-starting her heart and filling her entire body with a completely new set of thoughts and horrors. She honestly didn't know which part she should feel more freaked out about; the fact that people were expecting _her_, of all people, to take Elsa's place, or the fact that they were considering such a ridiculous idea in the first place.

"What?" Anna breathed in disbelief as her head whipped around so fast, it was a miracle she didn't break her neck. "You've already started talking about this? Elsa has barely been gone a few weeks and already you're picking out her replacement!?"

"Anna-" Kristoff reached out and gently grabbed her wrist in an effort to calm her down.

"No!" She snatched her hand away. "It's way too early to be thinking like this! The bandits would've obviously taken her very far, far away, otherwise we would've found her by now! She needs time to find her way back. That's all she needs, time to find her way back!"

The councilman shot a nervous glance in Kristoff's direction, hoping to receive some kind of help from him, but the ice harvester only shook his head and gave him a look that said, '_Don't do it, man_'.

The kingdom of Arendelle had been in a state of inaction for far too long. The council could only be so patient with the princess before they would start giving themselves justification to take matters into their own hands, if they hadn't already. Princess Anna might not be aware of much beyond the walls of her room, but Baard was. He had served on the kingdom council for decades, longer than both the queen and princess had even been alive, as had most of the other council members. He knew these people, he knew how they could get in times of crisis. They could be quite ruthless sometimes, especially if they sense potential weakness in the kingdom, which was why they always gave queen Elsa a difficult time after the king and queen had passed. They thought her too young to rule, too inexperienced, and after the whole eternal winter fiasco, they had been searching for any excuse to wrestle away as much power from the queen as they could.

Baard felt bad for the young queen. However, Elsa proved to be quite resilient against the council with her utter indifference towards their personal opinions of her. She made the focus strictly business during their meetings and she kept emotion out of it. Baard had to respect her for that. Her training and studies had not gone to waste and she was entirely ready to fully immerse herself in her duties as queen. She came farther than any of them expected her to, even if the other members weren't willing to admit it.

Princess Anna, on the other hand...well, let's just say if her sister never returns home and she ends up taking the queen's place, Baard had no doubt they would eat her alive. Princess Anna had no way of dealing with the cutthroat minefield that was politics. Which made her cooperation during this crisis all the more important.

"With all due respect, your highness, how much time are you willing to give her? I realize this must be very difficult for you and everybody prays the queen will be returned safely, for both your sakes, but the kingdom needs a ruler. Not only are there homeland concerns in dire need of addressing, but news of Queen Elsa's abduction has already spread beyond our territory and with this weakness, rival kingdoms could be devising plans to move in on-"

"I'll give her all the time she needs!" Anna shouted, with a tone of desperation. She stood up from the bench and stomped her foot defiantly. "As much as it takes! And- and- and- when she _does_ come back, _you_ guys are going to feel _so stupid_! You might as well go pack your bags now, _pal_, because when Elsa gets back, you are so fired!"

Baard's frown deepened as his own frustration. "Your majesty, please! I'm only trying to prepare you for what lies ahead. Nobody can force you to take on your sister's responsibilities, but you must realize there will be serious repercussions if you don't do _something._ Perhaps it is too early to start considering the queen's permanent absence, and I will try to convince the other members of the council to take that into consideration, but I implore you to think realistically here. If you continue to let your kingdom go on without a proper ruler, not only will you suffer the consequences, but your people will as well. If you insist so adamantly that queen Elsa will return, then there still needs to be a kingdom for her to come back to!"

He tried to keep his tone leveled in fear of coming off as disrespectful, but he couldn't stop his own concerns from sneaking their way in.

However, the princess didn't seem to any offence to him raising his voice to her. In fact, the spark of life that had ignited in her eyes only moments earlier was extinguished once again as she visibly deflated right before his eyes. Her scowl dropped and her features softened as Baard's words sunk in. Her eyes began to gloss over and her shoulders sagged. Baard and Kristoff stood by, exchanging uncertain glances while Anna stared at the ground, looking like a lost puppy.

"But...I don't know what to do. I can't help them. I'm just the spare. The spare's never actually supposed to be needed. That's why it's the spare!"

At the desperate crack in the young woman's voice, Baard felt his own tense shoulders loosen. He exhaled heavily through his nose as he resisted the urge to rub at his tired eyes. He hadn't come here to upset the princess.

He didn't want to be the bad guy.

"I know. However, please realize, Princess, I am loyal only to the reigning family. The other council members may not always act in you and your sister's best interest, but believe me when I say, I am doing everything in my power to help you."

The distraught princess didn't say anything as she lowered herself back on to the window bench with her head and eyes still turned towards the floor. Baard shot her a sympathetic frown before squaring his shoulders and collecting himself once again.

"I will keep the other members pacified for as long as I can so you may have some privacy to decide what you want to do, but I can't hold them off forever, your highness."

And with that, councilman Baard gave a respectful bow to the princess before turning on his heel. He nodded towards Kristoff as he stepped out of the room.

"Thanks," Kristoff mumbled as the man passed. "Have a goodnight, Councilman."

He shut the door behind the official.

Silence filled the room again as the latch clicked firmly back into place. Kristoff lingered by the door, debating whether or not he should let the matter of Elsa's abduction drop with councilman Baard's departure, or if he should try and stress it further. He knew the latter needed to be done sooner or later, but the former was blissfully easier and oh-so very tempting.

In the end, he decided he should take a chance and push further while things were, more or less, still up in the air. He could tell Baard's words got to Anna. Someone had actually almost gotten through and they pushed her that much further into finally accepting reality. And despite the pain the truth would most definitely cause his love, Kristoff knew it was probably for the best.

Taking a deep breath, he approached his fiance again and tentatively lowered himself down to sit on the edge of the bench. She didn't turn her head to look at him, but he saw her glance briefly at him from the corner of her eye before going back to the window. He decided to take that as an invitation and he reached out to gently lay a hand on her ankle, his thumb rubbing circles into the soft skin.

"Anna," He began. "You know it's been over a month since-"

The redhead didn't even wait to hear all of it. Her head snapped around again and she fixed him with a mean glare.

"Oh, what? Now you're on their side too!" She spat at him accusingly.

Kristoff's eyes widened in alarm as he stood back up with his hands held out in front of him. "No! No, of course not! I would never be on their side because I'm on your side! I'm always on your side, aren't I? Even when you're wrong!"

He was acutely aware that he had just said the entirely wrong thing in the entirely wrong way a second too late. The ice harvester flinched at his own stupidity and he quickly braced himself for his fiance's tiny blows.

'_Why me?_' He thought miserably.

Anna let out a disbelieving laugh as shocked offense splayed blatantly across her freckled face.

"Oh! So you think I'm wrong in this, do you?" Her glare intensified. She stood up from the window bench and placed her hands on her hips. "Wanting to believe my sister is still alive and not dead and buried in some shallow grave in the middle of nowhere is _wrong_?"

"No, that's not what I meant-"

Kristoff scrambled to fix his mistake, to rephrase his words, but it was too late. He had just won himself a golden ticket straight into the doghouse.

"Oh, just be quiet!" She snapped. "I don't want to hear it. This is all your fault anyways!"

He balked at her. "My fault!? How is this my fault!"

"Hey, come on guys," Olaf spoke up from his spot on the bench, waving his twig arm between them. "Please don't fight again."

Anna ignored him. "You should have went back for her! Things would've turned out so much differently if you would've just went back, or better yet, if you would've let _me_ go back! I tried to, I _wanted_ to, but you wouldn't let me! Things would've been different!"

Kristoff couldn't stop the indignant snort that escaped him. "Oh yeah, I'm in total agreement with you there, princess. If I had gone back, I would've gotten a sword through my chest, and if I had let you go back, you would've been kidnapped too! _Different_ doesn't mean _better_, Anna. Maybe things would've gone much better if I had acted differently, but then again, they could've gone a lot worse too! I was just trying to keep my future wife safe, so don't blame this on me! It's what your sister would've wanted me to do and you know it!"

"Well at least if I had been taken too, then me and Elsa would've been together!" Anna fired back. "At least we wouldn't be in this nightmare alone! Yeah, I'm still here, safe and sound in our home, but what about Elsa, huh?"

"Oh my God, Anna!" Kristoff groaned in frustration as he ran his fingers through his hair and pulled on the blonde strands. "Elsa, Elsa, Elsa! This isn't just about Elsa anymore! I know you're worried about her and I am too, everybody is, but what about us, Anna!? Did you not just hear what councilman Baard said? If your sister doesn't come back, _you_ are going to have to take her place! The council is going to make you queen, and since we're getting married, by default, I'm going to be king, which is even worse! How the hell are we going to run an entire kingdom filled with people whose _lives_ are depending on us doing a good job when neither of us have had the proper training? It took the kingdom years and dozens of tutors to make Elsa the ruler she was- _is_, today. How the hell are we going to measure up to that!?"

"I don't know, okay!? I don't know!" Anna shut her eyes tight and started pulling at her own hair. It was too much. It was all just too much for her. Anna could barely think straight anymore.

Things weren't suppose to go this way! She had a plan! A perfect plan! Her and Elsa planned the perfect wedding. It was everything Anna had dreamed it would be, right down to the very last detail. She worked on her wedding vows for months and practiced saying them in the mirror every morning while she brushed her hair and washed dry drool off her chin. She practiced her graceful walking everywhere she went so she wouldn't trip when she walked down the aisles. She nearly drove Elsa to freeze the kingdom all over again with all her crazy requests (but her sister still pulled through for her, even with the more ridiculous ones, like a fountain that ran both chocolate _and_ caramel). She even skipped out on breakfast and lunch the day of the wedding to avoid getting anything stuck in her teeth. She had done everything she was supposed to!

What happened to her plans? Where was the "happily ever after" that she and her sister deserved? Why was nobody fighting to keep the hope that Elsa will return alive?

Not only was Anna's home invaded by bandits, her wedding completely ruined, her sister missing and possibly in terrible danger, her kingdom in a panic, but now there was some stuffy council-jerk-man coming into her room and making things worse for her? Who was he to come barging in here, talking nonsense about Elsa not coming back and Anna taking her place?

And now he had Kristoff thinking the same way!

Oh, there was definitely going to be some serious changes to the council when this was all over.

"Just for once in your life, look at the bigger picture here, Anna!"

"I wouldn't have to if Elsa was back! We need to find her now before the council starts making decisions for her! We just need to _find her_!"

"And what if we don't!?" Kristoff finally yelled.

Silence dropped like a lead ball between them as Anna reared back in shock, looking as if he had just slapped her across the face. Olaf let out a gasp as he held his twig hands to his mouth and his eyes darted nervously between his two friends. Kristoff immediately felt lower than dirt when Anna's wide eyes glossed over again with unshed tears and she choked out the saddest sound he had ever heard in his life.

"Anna, I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" He reached out to her with a miserable look on his face.

Anna only shook her head and backed away from him. "Get out."

"Anna, don't-"

"_Get out!_" She screamed at him.

The red-faced princess picked up one of the throw pillows from the window bench and threw it at Kristoff. It hit him square in the chest, doing absolutely nothing other than make him realize he had just screwed up on a whole new level and that he should just leave now before he made things even worse. He gave Anna one last pleading look, but she wasn't having any of it. Her piercing glare spoke of all the hurtful things she wanted to throw in his face, like the one he had just thrown in hers.

Defeated, the ice harvester made for the bedroom door with a sad gait and his eyes downcast with guilt while Olaf trailed silently behind him.

When the door closed shut behind them, Anna looked back at the window with a fresh set of teary eyes. Her hands tightly gripped the sill of the window until the wood bit painfully into her palms and her knuckles turned white. She blinked her eyes and watched in the window's faint reflection as the tears streamed down her cheeks. Images of her sister began to flash inside her mind.

_'Hurry, Anna! Get up! We need to go!'_

_'Elsa!'_

_'Just keep running! Don't worry about me! I'm right behind you!'_

Anna shut her eyes tight and a stifled sob before walking over to her bed and curling into a ball on top of it.

"Liar," She whispered softly to herself as she broke down again and sobbed into her blankets.

~O~

_Elsa was running again._

_She was running for her life, just as she had done the night before, running through a pitch black forest without even the moon to light her way. Only this time, she knew she was being pursued. The heat of danger bared down on her shoulders, spurring her into running even faster as her frantic breaths doubled and her heart burned inside her chest._

_She was vaguely aware that she was wearing her ice dress, though she had no clue why, or how, that was. She could feel the thin, wispy material of the gown against her bare legs as she ran and the air brushing intimately along her exposed shoulders and neck. The sheer cape that trailed behind her snagged on branches and tree roots as she ran through the forest. She could feel the tugs against her shoulder blades where the cape connected to her dress. At one point she thought she heard the sound of fabric ripping after a particularly strong tug, but she didn't dare look back to find out. Yes, the material had been pretty, but not enough to risk her life over._

_The shouts of the bandits and their howling dogs rang constantly in her ears, not once lessening in volume no matter how fast or how far she ran. It made her wonder whether her attackers were truly behind her, or if it was just all in her head and she was running through an empty forest. She couldn't stop, though. Her legs were permanently set to flight and they yielded to no command from her hectic mind. The only thing she knew now was that there was a horrible threat dogging her heels. Death was out to get her. It held a personal vendetta against her and it was determined to drag her down. She had to keep moving._

_However, just as she was starting to believe that she would run right off the edge of the world, a gust of wind blindsided her and a burst of snow shot down from the heavens and landed right in her path, forcing the queen to skid to a sudden stop that almost had her tripping over her own feet and crashing against the ground. Her arms spun like pinwheels to keep her balance and she stepped awkwardly on the heel of her shoe, making her ankle bend painfully to the side for a second before she righted it (why the hell did she ever think it was a good idea to wear heels with this dress!?)._

_Once she stood upright again, Elsa gasped when she looked up and watched as a rabid dog with mud brown fur sprung from the snow mound in front of her. Specks of snow rained down on her in a fine mist as the mutt shook itself dry and fixed the queen with glowing red eyes. It let out a low growl from between a broken muzzle, baring its teeth at her. She held her hands close to her chest while her feet began to move backwards away from the drooling canine that was slowly making its way towards her. It eyed her like a slab of freshly butchered meat._

_More growls suddenly sounded out as the wind blew in a violent blizzard and several more dogs appeared from within the dark forest. They stalked closer to Elsa, forming a deadly circle of teeth and claws around the trembling queen._

_"Stay back!" She warned them._

_She threw out her hands with the intent of using her ice powers to throw back the dogs and freeze her way out of trouble, but she choked on a sob when nothing happened. Her hands hung uselessly in the air, void of the feeling of frost shooting from her fingertips. She repeated the motion several more times, each one more urgent than the last. The dogs continued to advance on her, untouched by her ice._

_"No, no, no!"_

_Throwing her hands down in defeat, the queen braced herself and screamed as the dogs lunged at her. They piled on top of her with their biting teeth and filthy nails. Elsa felt them land on her back and shove her against the ground. The scent of wet dog invaded her senses, choking her. They tore at her dress and skin, crushing her with their large paws. She felt like she was drowning beneath them, but as soon as she thought the word "drowning", the fur against her skin became softer and began to lose its form and Elsa's surroundings started to change with the spontaneity of nightmares. She let out another gasp when the dogs randomly melted into globs of mud and she found herself sinking deeper into the pit of quicksand that was her subconscious. She barely had time to suck in a big gulp of air before the mud spilled over her head and swallowed her whole._

_She was then falling, falling from somewhere high up and into a dark oblivion below._

_The ground came up to meet her out of nowhere. Her shoulder impacted harshly with hard stone and the air was knocked right of her lungs. She coughed and choked as the jarring sensation rattled her bones. Her body laid motionless on the ground as the queen let out a groan and rolled on to her back. Her blues eyes trailed upwards to see a stone ceiling above her and she immediately realized where she was. Back inside the bandits' dungeon._

_There wasn't much fight left in her to start panicking again. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Elsa knew none of this could be real. The haze of the nightmare was just that, a thin haze. The images her brain was kicking up to torment her were still disturbing and she couldn't stop herself from reacting to the imaginary danger, but on a higher level she knew what this all was. With another groan, the queen dragged herself up into a sitting position and looked around the dungeon. Before she could collect herself and climb to her feet, a loud rumble surged through the dungeon and Elsa's heart spiked with panic again when she realized the stone walls around her were starting to close in. They were going to crush her!_

_She screamed, bracing her arms and feet against the walls and floor to stop them from closing in on her. The scraping sound of stone against stone grated harshly in her ears, making it impossible to think._

_"Stop!" _

_In an instant, the dungeon walls fell away and she found herself standing in nothing but darkness. She could still see, she could still look down and see her ice dress giving off a brilliant blue hue, but it was like she was in a black painted box, trapped inside with a heavy lock to keep her from escaping. Fog clouded along the ground, so thick she couldn't see her own feet, and every time she moved, she would kick up wisps that would curl slowly in the air like smoke. The atmosphere of her dream had changed. Before, it was one thing after another. Her nightmare would shift constantly without warning, leaving her no time to react before another terrifying figment of her own subconscious was thrown in her face. Now, though, all seemed calm. Still eerie in the sense of being surrounded by infinite darkness, but it was quiet and Elsa was alone. _

_"Hey," A new voice suddenly spoke up, startling her out of her thoughts._

_Elsa whipped around to see Logan standing behind her with his arms folded across his chest and an annoyed scowl on his face. His dark bangs hung carefree in his eyes and she could see the hazel irises staring intensely at her from behind the strands._

_"Wake up," He demanded._

_She looked at him with wide eyes, unsure if he was even real. "What?"_

_"Wake up," He said again, a little more insistent as he took a step closer._

_Elsa only blinked at him, taking a step back._

_His scowl deepened with a growl and he stepped closer to her, roughly grabbing her arm before she could move away. Elsa stared down at the hand wrapped tightly around her upper arm and let out a horrified gasp when flames erupted from beneath his palm. The bright fire quickly spread from his hand, dancing up her arm and licking painfully at her skin. She tried to pull away, but the grip around her arm was iron._

_She looked up again at Logan's face as the flames continued to spread all along her body, to plead for him to let her go, but only to balk in terror when she found herself now face to face with the bandit leader. He stared menacingly at her with soulless brown eyes, the bottom half of his face still obscured behind a red bandanna. Elsa lashed out with her free arm to hit him, slap him, claw her nails down his face, but he quickly caught it. She screamed her rage and fear at him, but he only laughed at her like one would at a child throwing a tantrum. __He tore away the red cloth that covered the bottom half of his face and grin madly at her, revealing a set of razor-sharp teeth. _

_Now completely engulfed in fire, Elsa thrashed like a madwoman as the bandit leader unhinged his jaw and opened his mouth to swallow her whole. He lunged at her._

_"I said-"_

"Wake up!"

Elsa's eyes snapped open in panic and her body sprung upright.

She sucked in a mouthful of air like she was drowning. Her eyes darted around her surroundings, seeking out the danger she had just been battling. It took her a few seconds to realize she was back in the forest. Not the forest from her nightmare, but the one she had fallen asleep in last night. Dawn was slowly peeking in from between the trees and along the horizon, the sun beginning its morning climb into an already cloudy sky.

Logan was crouching next to her, wearing the same expression he was in her nightmare, but he had his hands firmly to himself, hanging between his bent knees as he regarded her with a bored frown. Her distress was obvious and she knew he had taken notice by the way his eyes moved along her face and body, taking in her frazzled state, but he didn't comment on it.

"Jesus, you're a heavy sleeper," He said as he stood up straight again. He prodded the side of her leg with the tip of his boot. "Get up. It's time to go."

Elsa released a shuddered breath once Logan walked away, letting the remnants of her nightmare go as she forced herself to calm down enough to get up for the day. She threw a wary glance in her guide's direction and watched him as he started packing up the few supplies they had unloaded last night.

The queen reached up and gently combed her fingers through her hair, undoing and then redoing her braid as she fought back a yawn. She must've been asleep for a couple of hours, but she still felt exhausted, like she had only slept five minutes. It also didn't feel nice when she moved to stretch her limbs and found that her entire body felt stiff. No doubt from laying on the bumpy forest floor all night. She fought back the urge to groan in discomfort as she pulled her blue cloak up on to her shoulders and climbed to her feet.

She reared back in surprise when she saw a frosty silhouette of her balled up figure on the dying grass where she had been laying. Like a white shadow, it was almost a perfect outline of her. It glowed and sparkled faintly as the brightening sky reflected off the ice. Elsa quickly looked up to see if Logan had noticed, dreading how she was going to explain her way out of this one, but when she saw that he still had his back turned, she quickly kicked around some loose dirt to cover up the patch of frost.

This was an unsettling development.

Elsa figured she would have nightmares about her time spent with the bandits, but she was hoping the full effect wouldn't hit her until she was safe at home in her kingdom, where it wouldn't matter if she froze her room in her sleep. If the nightmares were going to keep plaguing her every time she closed her eyes, then hiding her powers was going to be a lot harder than she realized. If that was even possible.

"Damn," Logan's disgruntled voice pulled back her attention. He was looking up towards the sky with a frown as little snowflakes started to drift down from above. "It's not suppose to snow for another two weeks, _at least_."

Elsa resisted the urge to flinch as she looked up. Though the raising sun was still able to shine its way through, the sky was undoubtedly overcast.

"Is that going to be a problem?" She asked, trying to sound casual about it while she threw another wary glance at his back from the corner of her eye.

"Not really, I suppose. I was just hoping the good weather would hold out a little longer," He said as he reached into his pack and pulled out a dark grey pea coat he had snatched from an inebriated sailor last winter. He shook the dust and lint off of it and pulled it on before smoothing out the front. He then hauled himself on to his horse. "The cold doesn't bother me much."

"Yeah," Elsa mumbled, stifling an unladylike snort at the comment as she mounted her horse. "Me neither."

* * *

**AN: I introduced yet another OC in this chapter, Councilman Baard, but he's only going to be a minor one, like Tobias, except a little more long-term. He inadvertently becomes Anna's own adviser since he's really the only member of the council willing to help her and Kristoff deal with things.**

**I wasn't really planning on involving Anna and Kristoff much beyond this chapter (other than the end of the story), but I decided I might try switching off between the sisters since this chapter gave me a lot of interesting material to work off of. I probably won't alternate between them chapter to chapter, though. Depending on how long this thing turns out to be, I'll probably do a chapter showing the going-ons in Arendelle after a few chapters of Elsa and Logan doing their thing.**

**And sorry if things are a little overdramatic right now, but it needs to be done. Now that I've established both sisters in the story and we're fully on our way in the story, I'll try to lighten things up a bit.**

**Review if you want to read more!**

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	6. The Rules and the Marketplace

**AN: Thanks again for all the reviews and follows! This story is going to be really review driven, which means, even though I enjoy working on it, the amount of reviews I receive are going to determine if the next update will come. I don't really like being that kind of writer, but I have a lot of other projects I need to work on and if there's not much interest behind this story, I really rather not waste my time worrying about updating regularly. ****So if you're really liking this story, just review each chapter posted, letting me know how you're liking it.**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (12/20/15)**_

**Warnings: mild cursing and a little violence**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or its characters. **

* * *

His hair looked black again today, Elsa noticed.

She supposed it was a rather odd thing to fixate on, but after three days of staring at nothing but green trees, green bushes, green grass, green, green, and more _green_ \- it was inevitable that her focus eventually settled on her guide; the only other human being she has had any contact with in days.

It had been three days since they had started on their journey together and during that time a rather uneventful routine had established itself, one that neither of them strayed from. It consisted of rising at the crack of dawn after spending the night on the forest floor, meandering on horseback all day with only a word or two exchanged between them, a short lunch break, more horseback, setting up camp at dusk, eating another meal of rice and jerky, falling into a restless sleep and then waking up the next morning to do it all over again.

Up until that point, Elsa had forced herself to remain stoic and alert, ready to bolt at a moments notice if she needed to, but it was hard to keep that up for three days straight, especially since Logan had not offered up any sort of travel agenda, which left her no choice but to follow him blindly. The days began to blur together and as soon as the queen was made aware of this dull routine, her mind began to wander, causing her to think about the most pointless things. Like her guide's hair color.

Again, Elsa found it ridiculous that her brain was so starved for stimuli, that her thoughts converged around such a stupid subject, but she just had to look at something new. Logan's hair seemed the most innocent to observe and less awkward to explain if she were to be caught staring. She rather not look at him at all, but she felt that if she looked at the color green for a single second longer, she would be sick. Her complexion would change color to match her repetitive surroundings and she would lose her lunch over the side of her horse.

It was overcast again today, just as it had been everyday, which didn't help anything. Logan had stripped off his coat as the weather warmed up, leaving him in just his grey shirt and navy blue scarf. The air had a crisp feel to it, but it wasn't nearly cold enough to warrant snowfall. The clouded sky left the world below in a grey shade of lighting, making the days seem shorter than they already were and making certain things look darker in color than they should be, like they did indoors.

'_Well of course it's going to look black indoors. Everybody's hair looks darker indoors. Only, it was clearly brown the next morning when I saw him, with the sun out. It could've just been a trick of the light. Dark hair does that, doesn't it? Because black reflects all kinds of color when light hits it, right? Let's just go with black. Brown has no business being that dark and what does it matter anyways? It's obviously black. I don't see why- Am I honestly bored right now?_'

She silently berated herself. The very thought downplayed the total seriousness of the situation, making her feel as if her guide's infuriating nonchalance was finally starting to rub off on her and make her lose sight of what was important, which was getting back home, _alive_, to protect her sister from bandits. This was entirely unacceptable. She shouldn't be feeling _bored_.

Still, it was there, that irritating gnawing of boredom eating away at the back of her skull.

She let out an exasperated puff of air from between her lips, causing a strand of blonde hair resting against her forehead to flip up as her eyes rolled upwards. The small of her back and bottom were starting to ache again from sitting upright on her saddle for so long without stopping. The silence between the two travelers started to make itself known and irritation began to build up in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes trailed back to her guide before moving down the back of his head until they landed on the black lines on his neck, peeking out from the neckline of his shirt.

'_I wonder what kind of tattoo that is. Did it hurt? I've heard before that it hurts to get a tattoo. It looks like it's part of a bigger design- Oh my God, I'm doing it again._'

"Hey!"

Elsa snapped out of her thoughts when Logan suddenly spoke. Apprehension replaced boredom as he turned to look at her over his shoulder, his mouth set in a frown. Had he noticed her studying him?

"What?" She asked, trying not to look guilty.

He looked forward again, "We're coming up on a town in a couple of miles," He raised an arm to point out something in the distance. "We'll stop there to restock our supplies."

He didn't wait for a reply and Elsa didn't give one. She didn't care much about their supplies. She knew she should since they had to be important if Logan felt the need to bring them, but she didn't really know what they were. Logan never let her touch anything when it came to unloading the horses, so it was hard to even pretend to care. However, she did feel relieved at the prospect of stopping. The "couple of miles" part didn't sound as promising, and her bottom smarted again in response. It was still something to look forward to, at least. They had yet to come across any sort of town or village and it would be nice to stretch her legs and perhaps have a little social interaction with someone other than Logan, even if she didn't actually speak to anyone.

Feeling a little more chipper (for a lack of a better word), Elsa let her mind wander again, freely and without guilt, to help pass the time. She avoided studying her guide again; instead, choosing to focus on the spotted fur pattern of Logan's horse.

Logan felt relief of his own when he saw the sign propped up on the side of the road, announcing they would soon be entering a town. A sign that his fellow traveler had apparently missed because she was staring at him. He hadn't needed to turn around to know that she was. He could practically feel her gaze burning a hole in the back of his head. It took every ounce of self-restraint inside of him not to turn around and tell her off. His patience was already wearing thin as it was.

Although, if he were to be honest with himself, that wasn't the girl's fault. Not entirely.

He had been an ass to her, he would admit. His ego wasn't so fragile that he couldn't handle admitting when he was being an ass. Of course, Elsa barely knew him so she probably just assumed he was _always_ an ass and had decided to make peace with it, but he wasn't, or at least, he would like to think he wasn't. He was just pissed. Not at the girl (though, she did have this uppity way of holding herself that kind of annoyed him). No, He was pissed at himself for a personal screw up that had nothing to do with their current situation. He was pissed for letting himself get stuck in a position where he needed to take jobs he didn't really want.

A very long story short, a favor for an old man with a bad knee and disapproving stare wasn't the only reason he had taken the job. Much as it caused many people to do some very stupid things, _stupider_ than what he was doing now - Logan's main motive for taking the job was money troubles.

Embarrassing? Yes - especially since he had always considered himself good at managing his money. In his own defense, however, it wasn't anything that he couldn't fix. He wasn't so deep in the hole that he couldn't dig himself out. He had just overestimated how much money he had and by the time he realized his mistake, he had hit a rather brutal dry spell in job prospects, leaving him with no real source of income and the urge to punch something, hard. So when Tobias came to him with his little escort job, which set off a whole mess of red flags in his head the moment the word "bandits" was dropped, Logan wasn't really in a position to turn it down.

Of course, he didn't let on to this fact (couldn't seem desperate. No, no, no).

Projection was what it was, really. Every time he snapped at her, whether she actually deserved it or not, Logan felt a tiny twinge of guilt inside his chest, despite himself. You really had to feel sorry for the girl, and not just because she had someone like Dag and his goons dogging her heels. She was a complete wreck. Sure, she put up a rather convincing front, with the way she held her chin high and steeled her expression against all emotion, but it was her eyes that betrayed her. Those pretty blue eyes set inside an even prettier face. They had a dullness to them. A dullness that mixed intimately with toxic feelings like doubt and uncertainty that would eat a person up inside. She was putting up a good fight, but Logan could see it took every ounce of strength inside her slim figure not to break down and let go whatever it was she was holding back. She was tough in that regard, he'd give her that, but everyone had their breaking points.

This was a long journey they were on together, one that could turn South at any point if they had a run-in with Dag and his bandits. If they couldn't get along, then it was going to be an even longer journey. They didn't have to be friends. They didn't even necessarily have to _like_ each other. But as much as it pained him to admit, Logan couldn't take on the full blunt of the journey on his own. It was just too big. Eventually, they would have to work together, and working together would go much more smoothly if they weren't trying to tear each other's throats out.

So on that note, Logan exhaled heavily through his nose as his tongue propped the inside of his cheek in thought. When he finally came to a decision, he pulled firmly on the reigns of his horse so he would fall into step with the fair-haired woman. She gave him a wary look as he did so, but he ignored it. A brief silence fell again and her gaze landed back on her hands.

"So," He drawled idly, trying to dredge up a conversation to break the boring silence. "Which prince was it?"

She remained quiet, but he could read her questioning expression easily.

"Which prince did your ruler marry?" He clarified.

Elsa gnawed on her bottom lip, debating whether she should answer. Ignoring the question would only serve to annoy Logan, but she had decided from the beginning that she wasn't going to further involve Anna in anything, including conversation. Logan had already pulled apart one of her stories with alarming ease. She didn't want to risk saying the wrong thing and get trapped in another lie. He had already made it clear that if she lied to him again, she was on her own. Despite the boredom, the queen felt somewhat grateful that the last few days were spent in silence, helping her avoid that very problem. However, now it seemed Logan was finally looking to fill the silence. God knows why.

"Princess Anna didn't marry a prince - or, she _isn't_ marrying a prince, I mean," She eventually offered up. "The bandits attacked the castle before the ceremony was completed, so I don't think they're technically married yet."

Of course someone might argue that the princess would've probably picked up where the ceremony left off as soon as the dust had settled and the bandits were gone, but that person wouldn't be privy to the fact that Elsa was the princess' sister, the queen. Anna wouldn't have done that. It wasn't just hopeful thinking on Elsa's part. She knew Anna and Kristoff wouldn't go ahead with the ceremony until Elsa returned, or until solid evidence presented itself telling them that she never would.

"So what kind of guy is she marrying then?" Logan asked. "A duke? Count? A decorated soldier maybe? It's gotta be a pretty high title if it isn't a prince. If royals can't snag someone on their level, they at least strive for someone impressive."

Elsa resisted the urge to scoff. As if someone like _him_ would know anything about royal titles and how they interacted with each other. Still, it was another difficult question. She hesitated again, but this time, for a different reason other than protecting her cover story.

Kristoff's "title" was kind of...silly, to say the very least. Mostly because _she_ made it up, and rather spontaneously, too. She thought of the title almost completely out of the blue when she sought out to repay the ice harvester for all he had done for her kingdom. The new sled she had given him didn't feel like enough to fully express her gratitude, so Elsa upped the ante, just because she could. At the time, the title didn't sound ridiculous, but when repeated back to her by a dubious (but " still totally grateful, your highness") Kristoff some time later, she blushed and apologized for not coming up with something better. And although, over time, the title did eventually start to mean something significant in the kingdom of Arendelle, Elsa had no doubt it still sounded like something entirely made up to an outsider like Logan.

"She's marrying the Ice Master and Deliverer of Arendelle."

Ugh, Kristoff was right. That was a horrible name. It rolled off the tongue like rock.

"Ice master?" Logan echoed, wearing the same funny expression as Kristoff. "That's a real thing?"

"Only in recent years."

"I thought royalty can only marry other royalty, or someone with a title of high social standing."

"Not when you're the-"

Elsa was about to say "the second born" (or the "spare" as Anna sometimes liked to put it), but she caught herself. It was true, though. Anna's expectations in the kingdom were a lot more lax than Elsa's.

"Er...in Arendelle...apparently," She corrected lamely. "The main export is ice, so the title makes much more sense in Arendelle than it does out here."

Logan pursed his lips before nodding. "Alright, I can believe that. Still though, it sounds like something someone made up on the spot. Like they couldn't be bothered to sit down for five minutes and think of something better-"

"So what about you," Elsa asked, cutting him off and changing the subject. "What are you, Mr. Massett? Some sort of bodyguard? Professional thug?"

He let out a short puff of air that sounded suspiciously like a snort. "You just love calling me that, don't you?"

"Am I wrong?"

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes while gnawing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek, as if he couldn't quite find the words to explain what it was he did for a living. "Not completely. I'm sort of what you might call an...independent contractor."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," He breathed after another pause. "When someone has a difficult job they can't do, or aren't willing to do, they come to me."

"And what kind of "job" would that be?"

"Pretty much anything, I suppose," He held up a hand and started counting off the different types of "jobs" he's had in the past with his fingers. "Protection detail, security, delivering goods of a sensitive, valuable, or secretive nature. Escorting - which is what _this_ is," He gestured between them. "Debt collection. Private investigating - my personal favorite. Don't get to do it too often - and sometimes even typical stuff, like construction and manual labor."

"And your employers?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Depends on who's asking and how much it pays. My jobs come from word-of-mouth mostly. Usually they're just townsfolk, commoners, like an old peddler looking for someone to help him get his wares to market safely. Occasionally, I'll get a noble or two. Someone hiring me to recover stolen property or find proof of infidelity in their spouse. I've even done some jobs for royals too, employed via advocates or personal servants, if they don't want to be seen interacting with someone like me directly, which usually falls under the "hush-hush" category of business."

Elsa mulled over this new information to herself, unsure of how she should feel about all of it. Logan caught her pensive expression and frowned slightly.

"I won't lie to you, because there wouldn't be much point in it. I know what you already think of me, Ms. Snow. I'm not blind. Most of what I do is less than wholesome stuff, and I have to be a "thug" to get the job done. But _sometimes,_ I'll find good, honest work, and I can pretend to be a decent citizen for a while. It all really depends on the situation and how hard up I am for cash."

Elsa listened as he talked, admittedly a little enthralled by what he was saying. His life and choice of "career" seemed so...she didn't want to say _exciting_ because then that might lead to _condoning_ if she wasn't careful, but it was definitely something else, something interesting. The way he talked about it, his lifestyle just seemed so versatile, like he could _do_ anything, _be_ anyone, and _go_ anywhere he wanted at a moment's notice, leaving him free and entirely adaptable to any situation. Of course there were dangerous aspects to the kind of life he was describing, but he sounded so confident and undeterred by it, like potential death tasks weren't even big enough for him to waste time worrying about.

His tone wasn't boastful. He wasn't rattling off his many "less than wholesome" exploits like they were epic accomplishments, things he could gloat about and feel proud of. He barely showed any reaction at all. He was factual as he spoke, telling her exactly what it was he did because she had asked. He was open and honest with her, but at the same time, still vague. It was both refreshing and frustrating all at the same time, and it annoyed the queen for some reason.

She shouldn't be impressed by him. She _wasn't_ impressed by him. But she'd be lying if she said her curiosity wasn't at least piqued. If just a little bit. His world was vastly different from hers. A life as a self-employed, all-purpose wanderer was something incomparable to that of a sheltered, high-pressured (and sometimes a little repetitive) life as a reigning royal.

_That_ was what had to be annoying her. Everything Logan had just said should've told Elsa everything she needed to know about him, that she was right, that he was a criminal and that he wasn't trustworthy. He had proved her right, had he not? Admitted to what she suspected of him? So then why did she find herself wanting to know more? Was it some subconscious attempt at living vicariously through someone? She remembered doing something similar with Kristoff when he would share stories of his life as an orphaned outdoors-man. Her and Anna would sit around the dinner table with him and listen as he told them what it was like living outside of a castle, growing up without all the privileges the sisters had, and how hard he had to work to establish himself as an ice harvester with no one but a loyal reindeer for companionship and support.

"How do you decide which jobs to take and which ones to refuse?" She asked.

"I'll take pretty much any job, just as long as it doesn't infringe on any of my rules."

What rules, Elsa was about to ask, but was interrupted when Logan suddenly raised a hand, abruptly ending the discussion.

"Later," He said, seemingly reading her mind. "We're coming up on the town. Look alive."

She should've been peeved about being cut off, but something in his tone caught her attention.

He hadn't said much just then, but for a brief moment, the way he spoke made Elsa regard him closely. Interestingly enough, it wasn't just a clipped tone he had spoken with, she noticed. There was definitely a commanding one somewhere in there, delivered with an almost unconscious ease only a person used to being in charge could manage. A person like...well, a person like herself. A leader.

She thought that was a bit strange coming from Logan, considering the picture he had painted of himself was that of a natural loner. Someone who kept to themselves, despite being so confident. She couldn't imagine him spending much time around anyone he didn't have to (which wouldn't be anyone at all since he considered himself an "independent" contractor), let alone being in charge of a whole group of people. Still though, she knew she had heard it, that "my word is law" tone of voice. Interesting.

Logan pointed ahead of them, towards the faint hint of civilization peeking through the tall trees. Elsa's restlessness blossomed anew when she realized they were about to make the supplies stop that he had promised. Her previous thoughts about her sketchy guide immediately fell out of her head as she shifted uncomfortably on her saddle, ready to dismount as soon as they stopped.

When they pulled into town, Logan found a good spot to tie up their horses and leave their belongings where they would be less likely to be stolen. Elsa stood off to the side while she waited for him to finish, stretching her arms above her head and letting out a happy groan at the sweet release of tension in her muscles. Once their horses were secure, he ushered them into town and headed directly for the market. He kept his eyes firmly on their surroundings as they weaved their way through the busy crowd of market patrons, his brow knotted and a hard look on his face as he weeded out potential threats.

Elsa knew she should do the same, if only to seem more competent "in the field", so to speak, but she couldn't stop staring at the many strange characters around her. Back before all this started, it was a rare occasion that the ice queen would set aside her paperwork and leave the castle to join Anna on a stroll through Arendelle's own market place. It was always an enlightening experience to interact with her people on a more personal level, face-to-face, but it was never quite like this. For one thing, everybody knew who Elsa was in Arendelle, and out of respect, her people always went out of their way to gain their queen's attention somehow - put on a little show to impress and please her. She could never be just an anonymous bystander in her kingdom.

This was the first time Elsa's ever blended into a crowd. The first time she has ever been just another blank face in a sea of bustling bodies. It was a jarring sensation and she found herself soaking up every minute of it.

On their right, the two passed by a small group of hunters, all proudly displaying the magnificent furs they had brought with them to sell as they unloaded their wagon. On their left, there was a tall, balding man with long limbs and big ears, wearing a bright, yellow tunic that clashed horribly with his pale complexion. He stood next to a busty older woman with gun-metal grey hair and way too many children running around her legs as the apparent couple argued with a plump baker over bread rolls.

There was a pair of young girls (sisters, by the looks of it) handing out bags of fruit as their father, a man with a bushy mustache and kind eyes, took the money from their customers. The sight of them reminded Elsa fondly of her and Anna when they were younger. They held each others hands as they took turns presenting the customers with their new purchase. One of the girls - a brunette with braids and a pink birthmark along her jaw - caught eyes with Elsa and waved. She smiled and waved back as she and Logan passed.

There was a surly man with cropped, red hair, holding a picket sign with the words "the end is nigh" painted across it in bold, black lettering. He stood on the sidelines, watching the people walk past him with a subtle air of disdain, as if he was watching animals in a zoo and pitying their oblivious existences. He also caught eyes with Elsa, very briefly as they passed by his alley, but his gaze was disturbingly empty and the queen had to look away.

Peddlers of all shapes and sizes preened from their stands, trying to coax the two newcomers into buying their merchandise. Logan didn't even glance at them as he shouldered his way through the market.

The further they moved inward, the more Elsa adjusted to being around people again. She still kept her arms tucked inside her cloak, just as a precaution. Her powers weren't as trigger-sensitive as they were back when she suppressed them, but she hadn't used them freely since the day of Anna's wedding, which had to be at least a month ago by now. The build-up of her powers wasn't as hard to manage anymore either, but stress was always a powerful inciter. She didn't want to accidentally expose her powers because of a loud noise startling her, or a sudden movement by a stranger.

Elsa looked towards Logan when he finally slowed down to a browsing gait, seeming to finally come across the type of stands they needed to visit. There were less people on this side of the market and after about twenty minutes of moving from stand to stand, Elsa decided to try and pick up where their earlier conversation left off. She reached out and tugged on one of Logan's suspenders. He was in the middle of haggling over the price of some kind of rope when he felt her pull on him. At first, she thought he was going to shrug her off and tell her to get lost, but to her surprise, he concluded his business with the peddler before leaning down a bit closer to her level to hear better.

"May I ask you something?" She asked.

"Sure," He said, his eyes going back to scanning the crowd.

"Back on the trail, you mentioned you had a set of rules?"

His gaze snapped down to meet hers. "Yeah?"

"What are they?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Yes, Elsa, why _do_ you want to know, she asked herself.

"I don't know," She answered honestly, shrugging her shoulders.

Logan regarded her closely like she had done to him, no longer paying attention to the faces floating around them. A few moments passed before he looked away and moved towards a nearby produce stand. Elsa came up behind him as he eyed the stand's selection of red apples.

"Five rules," He finally said, holding up a hand again to count them off. "Number one; no lying. You should already be familiar with this one. Like I said, I don't live a very safe lifestyle, so I value job security to make sure I'm not signing my death warrant every time I take a job. Which brings me to number two; preemptive discussion. I like to talk to my prospective employers before I agree to take their jobs. I want to know I little about them so I can get an idea of who I'll be dealing with."

"Like you did with me back in the tavern?"

"Exactly, and I found you irritating, but harmless," He smirked at her, causing Elsa to bite down on her tongue before she could say something rude. He continued on as he picked out a bag of apples and handed over a few coins to the peddler. "Number three; no I-owe-you's. Whatever payment we agree upon, I want half before I start the job and half when I finish it. Some of the stuff I do requires a certain level of risk. If there's a possibility I could die on a job, I'm going to make sure I'm not screwed over if I survive."

"You've already broken two of these rules with me. Does that make me special?" Elsa couldn't help the slight teasing note in her voice as she added that last bit.

"No, that makes me _really_ hard up for cash," He corrected. "And I didn't break any of my rules. I bent them. There's a difference. Now may I continue?"

She gave him a "you may" gesture with something akin to sarcasm.

He gave her an unimpressed look before holding up four fingers. "Number four; no killing, excluding instances of self-defense. No exceptions."

The first three rules seemed like common sense and general good self-advice to live by, but Elsa wasn't sure how to feel about the fourth one. Yes, it told her that assassinations weren't also listed on Logan's dubious resume, but the very idea just opened up a whole new line of questioning that she really rather not ask because of how potentially dark their conversation could get. So she let him continue without comment.

"And number five; everyone pulls their own weight. I'll do what I'm being paid to do, but I'm not going to carry anyone who I don't have to," He explained, before mumbling under his breath. "Although, I'm kind of worried I might have to bend this rule too."

In hindsight, she probably should've ignored that last comment, seeing that it wasn't any ruder than his other comments, but it felt too deliberate for her to let it slide, like he had meant for her to hear it despite mumbling it to himself in a loud market. It was like the straw that broke the camel's back. She felt herself bristle with indignation.

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

At the sudden dip in her tone, Logan took one look at the woman's sour expression and let out an exasperated sigh. "Alright, don't get upset. It's nothing personal. I just-"

The queen rounded on him. "I don't need you to carry me," She practically hissed at him.

For the first time since meeting him, Elsa saw a look of genuine surprise cross his face. His hazel eyes widened slightly at her cutting tone, showing off the many hues of green and pale brown in those mocking irises. Underneath her anger, she felt a spark of satisfaction for putting that shocked expression on his smug face, but it was immediately snuffed out when the shock was replaced with a bitter scowl of his own.

"I'll believe that when I see it," He sneered at her. "Don't start being an uppity bitch again just because you didn't like the answer to your question. I'm just telling you how it is with me, _princess_."

Panic surged through her for a moment. The chill of her powers prickled along her skin and underneath her clothing like needles from the sudden spike of emotion, but she realized almost immediately afterwards that he meant it in a derogatory fashion, not a literal one. He didn't suspect her. The panic faded and her anger returned, burning twice as bright.

"Well forgive me if I'm just as dissatisfied with this arrangement as you are," She replied hotly, feeling the urge to poke him in the chest. "I don't have a choice, though. I didn't choose to roll around in the mud with the pigs, unlike you, _thug_."

Elsa turned on her heel then, intent on walking off before their heated discussion could escalate into a fight, but the movement was curtailed when Logan suddenly reached out and grabbed her. He snatched her gloved wrist and brought it down on the counter of the stand, firmly holding it there in a vice-like grip. The act pulled a gasp from Elsa's lips, catching the attention of the stand's peddler - a dark-skinned man wearing foreign clothing. He looked up from the stack of blankets he was folding and gave the two a wary look, unsure if he should intervene, but one mean glare from Logan had the man turning away and tending to another customer. Nobody else paid them any mind.

Logan looked back at the blonde. His eyes narrowed at her. "Don't turn your little nose up at me. Looking at me as if I'm just dirt underneath your boots. You're not exactly a saintly angel yourself in my eyes either, Sugar. Let's not forget you never answered my question. You still haven't told me why Dag is after you. Maybe you're telling the truth when you say you don't know why, but you've already lied to me once before. Like I said, I bent my rules for you. I sure as hell didn't have to, but I did. _Don't_ make me regret it."

Elsa looked down at her hand, pinned underneath Logan's. The black color of his half finger gloves contrasted strikingly against the soft blue of hers and the queen could feel her ice pushing against the fabric. If he had held on much longer, he would definitely feel the icy grip of her powers through both of their gloves. She tried to yank her hand away, but it only made him tighten his grip. Not nearly enough to hurt her, but enough to keep her in place.

"Let go of me," She demanded, her blue eyes practically dripping with hate. "Right _now_."

She knew she should start chanting her old mantra in her head ("_Conceal. Don't feel. Don't let him know how close you are to freezing his head!_"), to calm herself and stop her powers from breaking loose, but she wasn't so sure she wanted to.

The fingers of her other hand twitched, a motion that Logan caught. His gaze flickered between hers and her other hand. A slow smirk spread across his face and mirth bloomed in his eyes. His gaze bore intensely into hers from behind dark strands of hair and his body language suggested openness in a silent challenge, just _daring_ her to try something. He probably took her twitching fingers as her wanting to punch him in the face, but really, Elsa wanted nothing more than to impale him on a very sharp piece of ice.

She couldn't, though. As disappointing as it was, she knew she couldn't. Even if she just punched him in the face like he expected her to, it would ruin everything and she couldn't allow that to happen. Elsa wasn't so hotheaded, so impulsive, that she would risk her one chance at getting home for a few moments of ill-fated satisfaction. As a leader, she knew when she needed to be the bigger person and back down.

She took a deep breath, ignoring Logan's sudden curious look as she closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down. Her eyes didn't open again until the flare of ice just below the surface of her pale skin melted away and she was able to look at him again without losing control.

"Let go of me," She repeated in a more collected tone of voice, her blue eyes cool and calm.

He listened. His own eyes still shined with interest as Elsa yanked her hand away as soon as his grip was loose enough. Without a word, the queen turned on her heel again and walked away. Logan didn't stop her.

"Stick close!" He called out in warning.

She ignored him, resisting the powerful urge to turn around and flash him a very rude hand gesture as she blindly turned down an empty alleyway.

When she was out of sight, Logan cursed underneath his breath and banged his fist against the counter of the stand. He brought up his other hand to rub at his eyes.

That definitely could've gone better.

"Was that an ass move?" He asked the peddler, who had been, not-so, discreetly watching him and Elsa from the corner of his eye. The peddler shrugged one of his shoulders and gave the younger man a "kinda" nod of the head. Logan looked back towards the alley the blonde had disappeared down and cursed again. "Damn. Why do women have to be so sensitive?"

With guilt once again pulling on his insides, he considered going after the woman, but decided to just let her be for now. She wouldn't go that far and he still needed to pick up some more supplies before they got back on the trail. The exchange of awkward apologies could wait.

In the alley, Elsa paced furiously back and forth as she mumbled to herself. Her hands were balled into tight fists at her sides and her maroon skirt kicked out repeatedly with the quick, stomping movements of her legs. Anger began to bubble inside her again and she let it happen, knowing that she now had a little privacy to rage.

Honestly, who did he think he was? Elsa may not have her status as queen, but she was still a _person_, for God's sake! Was that how he really saw her? Thought of her? That she was so weak that he would have to "carry" her back to Arendelle? She was _not_ weak. She was a queen, dammit! One that could shoot ice from her fingertips, build castles into the sides of mountains, freeze entire kingdoms and even create talking snowmen with poor comprehension of personal space! She wasn't weak! She'd freeze that smirk right off his face!

The queen let out a frustrated growl and slipped her fingers into her platinum blonde hair, tugging on the roots. Her back hit the wall of the alley a little harder than necessary and she slowly slide down to the ground as her temper tantrum started to recede. Her gaze trailed upwards, towards the overcast sky, noting humorlessly that it matched her mood perfectly. When her bottom met solid stone, Elsa pulled her fingers from her hair and drew her legs up towards her chest. She let out a heavy sigh as she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her forehead on her knees.

Feeling a bit defeated, she sat like that for a while, conjuring up images inside her mind of her sister's smiling, freckled face until she felt stable enough to leave the alley.

With a sigh, Elsa climbed to her feet and brushed off the back of her skirt.

'_Do it for Anna. Do it for Anna,_' She chanted in her head.

She stepped back out of the alley and looked around the market for Logan. With the sky starting to darken overhead, it looked as if the market was coming to a close. Most peddlers were serving their last customers and moving to pack up their things for the day. Elsa frowned when she realized her guide was nowhere in sight. She checked the crowd twice, thinking that maybe she had skimmed over him. Or maybe, he had finished with his shopping and went to load the supplies and bring the horses around?

Pursing her lips in thought, Elsa moved to the last market stand they were at before she stormed off to ask if the peddler remembered which way her intimidating companion went. She approached the stand where the dark-skinned peddler was packing up his merchandise.

"Excuse me," She spoke up in a polite tone. "I was wondering if you-"

"Sorry, one moment please," The peddler apologized, picking up a box and carrying it back behind the tented area of his stand.

Elsa let out a puff of air as her gloved fingers tapping idly against the counter as she waited. She stood there for a few minutes until letting out another sigh, realizing that the peddler probably wouldn't be back for a while. She stepped away from the stand, but before she could try her luck elsewhere, someone bumped into her as they rushed past. The collusion wasn't enough to knock her down, but it made her stumble gracelessly into the person standing on the other side of her.

She mumbled a soft apology as a gruff voice sounded out.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!"

The queen looked up at the rude market patron and froze.

It was one of the bandits. Standing right in front of her.

He wasn't one she recognized during her stint in captivity, but he wore the same black and red ensemble that she had come to associate the bandit group with. Obsidian black tunics and trousers, with blood red leather belts, gloves, and scarves wrapped around their necks in a style that made it easy for them to pull up their hoods and cover their mouths, ready to raid a village at a moment's notice. There was also a distinctive insignia embroidered into the fabric, a grisly-looking black spider that made Elsa's skin crawl every time she saw it.

The bandit had a dumb look on his face as he stared at Elsa. That classic "don't-I-know-you-from-somewhere" look. They stood there staring at each other for few seconds before the pin finally dropped and the bandit's eyes widened in recognition.

"What the- hey!" the bandit shouted, reaching out for her. "Come here!"

Realizing that there wouldn't be enough time to call out or run away before he grabbed her, the queen snatched the closest thing she could from the peddler's stand and swung it blindly at the bandit. Fortunately, what she had grabbed was a cast-iron frying pan and it made a loud, satisfying clang when it impacted with the bandit's head. She got him right in the temple, sending him crashing against the ground like a sack of bricks.

Not waiting to see if he would get up, Elsa dropped the pan and ran, turning down the same alley as before. Her breath came out in quick pants as she ran towards the other end. It opened up into another street of the market, one a little busier than the first. She looked up and down the street, seeking out her dark-haired escort as she ran out of the alleyway. For a moment, she thought about calling out to Logan, hoping that if he was nearby they could make their escape before more bandits showed up, but she choked on his name when she spotted two more bandits, a few yards down from where she stood out in the open. She recognized them immediately. It was beanpole and chubs; the tall and fat bandits that came looking for her at Tobias' house, the ones he had pointed a loaded shotgun at.

Her mind screamed at her to run, to go in the other direction or take her chances with the bandit she had hit with a frying pan, but her legs remained cemented to the ground as she stared wide-eyed at them. They had their backs towards her, but a loud commotion between a disgruntled peddler and patron drew a lot of eyes in her direction. Time seemed to slow down as Elsa watched the tall bandit turn her way. She waited for him to spot her, unable to move. Her heart pounded like a drum in her ears.

The scent of leather suddenly invaded her nose and Elsa let out a surprised yelp when a hand closed over her mouth and her body was dragged back into the shadowed alley. The queen immediately began to struggle when an arm circled around her waist and pulled her against a warm body.

"Shhh!" Logan shushed in her ear, stalling her movements.

She felt a shiver run through the broad chest pressed against her back, but Logan didn't seem to notice the sudden drop in temperature, or that the chill seemed to be emanating from her. He was too busy peeking out into the market, making sure the bandits hadn't seem them.

When he was sure they were safe, Logan released her and she quickly stepped away, moving as far from him as the alley walls would allow.

"The bandits!" She exclaimed. "They're here! In the market!"

He gave her a dull look as he reached down and pulled his hunting knife from the holster strapped to his pant leg. Elsa's eyes widened at the action, both disturbed and mesmerized by the way the light gleamed off the smooth, reflective surface of the blade, even in the shade of the alley.

"Yeah, I noticed. A small party of them must've rolled into town not long after us. I saw them when I was loading the horses."

"Do you think they're here for me?" She asked, trying to keep the tremor from her voice.

"Not sure. They might just be randomly checking the market, just in case there's an off-chance they pick up your trail, but I doubt they were expecting to find anything. Lucky us, eh? It looks like Dag's still got it out for you, Sugar."

"What do we do?"

Logan glanced up and down the alley as he picked his brain for an exit strategy. The market was closing, but it was still packed enough for them to hide in the crowd and make their way out if they moved fast and kept their heads low. He counted six bandits when he went back for Elsa; two near the entrance of town where he had left their horses, one inside the town inn, the two they just dodged in the market, and of course, the one blondie dispatched with a heavy piece of cookware. He had passed by the bandit laying face down in the dirt with an amused smirk, pitying the idiot for letting the much smaller woman get the drop on him. He was unconscious, but wouldn't be for long. They needed to move fast.

He reached out and grabbed Elsa's wrist. "This way. Stay close and keep your head down."

They moved through the market, weaving between the patrons while using them for cover. Logan kept a close eye on their surroundings as he navigated through a network of alleys, cursing every time they hit a dead end. It took a while, but eventually they were able to find their way towards the edge of town where their horses were waiting for them. However, just as they reached the end of their brick alley maze, the path ahead was blocked by three bandits; the two Logan had spotted earlier and the one Elsa had knocked out. They created a blockade with their bodies, forcing Logan and Elsa to skid to a stop.

"There they are!" One bandit shouted.

"Give us the girl!" Another demanded.

Out of instinct, Logan moved himself so he was standing directly between Elsa and the bandits. He stared down the men in the red hoods as he quickly assessed the situation. He could sense the fear and panic leaking from the woman behind him. He reached back a steady hand, motioning for her to stay behind him while refusing to take his eyes off his opponents. He holstered his knife as he came to a plan of action, realizing he wouldn't need the weapon. They weren't nearly as dangerous as they tried to look.

Seeing the bandits block their escape, Elsa began to feel trapped. She shifted her weight to the balls of her feet, preparing herself to turn and run in another direction, but a command from Logan telling her to "stay put", made her stop as he suddenly rushed forward. She watched with wide eyes when he ran straight up to the closest bandit, ducking effortlessly when the bandit cocked back his fist and threw a punch at his face. The hit missed its mark and Logan took advantage of the opening, delivering a brutal punch of his own to the bandit's gut. The man doubled over, choking on his own breath and falling completely when Logan grabbed the sides of his head and brought the bandit's face down on his knee as hard as he could.

Another bandit, bigger in size and more built, came up behind him and wrapped his thick, muscled arms around the smaller man in a crushing bear hug, squeezing him tight. Logan reacted, slamming the heel of his boot into the bandit's toes and holding it there as the bandit cried out in pain. He dropped down to his knees and pushed up the arms holding him captive, slipping his head out and breaking the grip. He then stood up again and turned, shoving back the bandit in one fluid still had the bandit's foot trapped underneath his and the larger man easily lost his balance. He fell backwards and wasn't given the chance to recover before Logan kicked him in the face, causing the bones in his face to break with a loud crunch that Elsa heard all the way from where she was standing. The back of the bandit's head connected with the ground, knocking him unconscious just like his friend.

Remembering that there was still one more bandit, Logan already knew the third had hung back, watching him beat the crap out of his buddies so he could wait for an opening. A blunt pain run down his spine as the bandit came up behind him and brought his elbow down in between Logan's shoulder blades. He let a pained grunt as the blow stunned him and he fell, landing flat on his stomach.

"Look out!" He heard Elsa cry out.

He quickly rolled on to his back, knowing the bandit was going to try and jump on top of him. The bandit missed by mere inches, hitting the ground instead of Logan. The dark-haired male retaliated by tackling him. They rolled around on the ground together, exchanging blows and trying to gain the upper hand until the bandit managed to land a cheap punch to Logan's face, causing his vision to blur for a moment and allowing the bandit to roll him over so he was above him. Logan glared up at him in defiance, still giving attitude as he prepared himself for the assault he knew was coming, but just as the bandit was about to sit up and begin wailing on him, a shadow fell over the two of them. He caught a flash of maroon just as a black boot suddenly connected with the bandit's ribs, kicking him off of Logan. He hit the ground with a thud and clutched his side.

Logan looked up to see Elsa standing there, blinking owlishly at him and looking just as surprised as he was. They exchanged glances before he collected his bearings and quickly climbed to his feet.

The bandit was still on his hands and knees, holding his side and groaning when Logan approached him. He grabbed the back of the man's head in an unforgiving hold, twisting his fingers into the man's hair and slamming his head against the nearest alley wall, knocking him unconscious like the other two and letting his body fall to the ground.

Silence fell as Logan leaned over and rested his hands on his knees, fighting to get his breath back. He could feel a wetness on his upper lip, dripping from his nose. That general area of his face hurt a lot from the sucker punch he got from the last bandit, but it didn't feel like anything was broken, so he was grateful for that.

Once he was able to, Logan stood up straight again and brought up a hand to wipe at his face. He glanced briefly down at the blood now staining his glove with a blank expression before wiping it on the back of his pants. He then reached up and ran his hand through his dark hair, pulling back the strands that hung in his face as he finally looked at Elsa.

They stood there looking at each other with three unconscious bandits laying on the ground between them.

"You sure you don't need me to carry you?" He asked, still slightly out of breath.

Throughout the entire fight, a look of awe had been plastered on the queen's face as she watched her guide take on three men by himself. He moved with unbelievable grace and agility, disposing of each bandit one by one, not at all thrown off when one managed to get a hit in. He took them in stride and threw back hits twice as hard. She had never seen anyone fight like that before. Logan was just as sharp and punctual when fighting as he was when speaking, smooth and calculating. It was impressive.

Elsa snapped her jaw closed with an audible click and looked up at him.

"Yes," She nodded determinedly.

She expected him to scoff at her, patronize her like he had done so many times before, conveniently ignoring the fact that she had help him so he could tear her down even more, but once again he managed to surprise her by giving her a look of equal determination. He smirked and reached out one of his hands towards her.

"I'll hold you to that then."

Elsa stared at the hand blankly for a few seconds before giving Logan a suspicious glare.

Seeming to anticipate her cold response, the dark-haired man exhaled heavily through his nose before changing his smirk into a smile. His expression softened and he gestured for her to take his hand again as his hazel eyes turned lighter and they filled with something more welcoming, more coaxing and almost...apologetic?

Despite still being cautious of him, but seeing no other option, the queen finally placed her gloved hand in his, letting his fingers curl around hers in a firm hold. He supported her weight as she hiked up the end of her skirts and stepped over the fallen bandits on the ground.

"Let's get out of here before more of these _pigs_ show up," He said as he led them out of the alley.

She allowed him to pull her along as they made their way back to their horses without further incident.

Miles away, riding full speed on horseback, Elsa still couldn't believe they had made it out of the market in one piece. Everything had happened so fast, her brain struggled to process all of it. The wind whipped wildly through her blonde hair, flowing freely through the fair locks as her and her guide traveled further away from town, leaving that bandit-infested market behind. When she was finally able to get a handle on her thoughts, a familiar sensation washed over the queen. Fear and panic melted away as elation took their place. It was an adrenaline rush, brought on by the thrill of danger and the relief of escape. She felt strangely weightless as a burst of freedom rushed through her veins, a wonderful feeling that she hadn't felt since she had first let go of her ice powers.

Smiling like a fool and not caring if it made Logan look at her funny, Elsa tightened her grip on the reigns of her horse with a new found sense of determination as they barreled down the path ahead of them.

She could still do this, she realized.

This shouldn't be something impossible. She was Elsa of Arendelle, daughter of king Agnarr, and the queen of ice and snow. If Anna could throw away all inhibitions and past grudges, mount a horse and spearhead into unknown territory and danger to save her sister, then Elsa could too. If she could put on another pair gloves and hide her powers, even after vowing to never do so again, then she could finish what she started with Logan.

No matter what, Elsa was going home.

* * *

**AN: Wow, that was a monster to write, especially the fight scene. I'm warning you guys now, fight scenes are not my forte. I always get so turned around when I write those, even worse when the fighters are the same gender because then I trip over the repetitiveness of the pronouns and I have to read over it a million times to make sure it actually makes sense. Blegh.**

**Anyways, don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you thought of the new chapter! I worked really hard on this one, so I would love to see some feedback!**

**Sorry for any mistakes in the content. This was a pretty long chapter, so I wouldn't be surprised if I missed some. If you notice a mistake in the content, let me know in a review and I'll fix it. Thanks!**

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	7. Story Time

**AN: Not much to say other than thanks for all the new reviewers and followers!**

**With Logan's "backstory" in this chapter, I didn't want to go with the usual Disney orphan cliche, which is already milked twice as hard in Frozen, so I let his parents live. I also didn't want to give him a horrific, traumatic childhood, feeling that it would be too overdramatic. It had to be just dysfunctional enough to warrant Logan's life as a "thug". I gloss over any extended commentary in the story, though, because his childhood isn't an important plot point. His life afterwards is. I felt the only way Elsa would feel comfortable enough to open up a little more was if Logan did so first. Tit for tat, and whatnot.**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (1/3/16)**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or its characters.**

* * *

In light of more recent encounters with the bandit gang, it could finally be said by both Elsa and Logan that this wasn't the worst situation any one person could be in. Although, perhaps admitted a bit begrudgingly.

Over the next two days, things were different between the two travelers. The air between them wasn't quite as intense as before and the silences didn't last nearly as long. Conversation came a little easier after the marketplace brawl, both of them coming to an unspoken understanding since then. Unfair judgment and half-cocked assumptions had been in abundance since their very first meeting and it wasn't lost on either of them that they were both at fault for their rocky start.

Making the effort to get along better certainly wasn't something they _had_ to do. They could've picked up where they left off before stopping for supplies; ignoring and snapping at each other at every given opportunity. But they both agreed that was far too boring to keep up for much long.

Through the course of their journey so far, Logan allowed himself enough freedom to let his guard down in regards to Elsa, despite the annoying fact that he was constantly "bending" his rules for her (God knows why). Other than being an excellent conductor for rotten luck, he didn't perceive the woman as much of a threat. Perhaps a bit of a spazz at times - what with her awkward, too formal conversational skills, her ramrod posture that made her look like she was born with a steel bar stuck up her backside, her weird thing with the gloves, and that funny, lemon-pinched face she always pulled when Logan said something particularly aberrant (she claimed it pretentious, he preferred witty), but certainly nothing hazardous to his health.

On Elsa's end, Logan had, annoyingly enough, been able to weasel his way up into the category of "decent human being" in her mind. A level right below "potential friend", and just above "scum of the earth" (or in laymen's terms, the Arendelle council board). He certainly proved himself back at the market, but the queen still found him a little too cocky. Another possibly misplaced assumption, but she wasn't used to being around someone so barefaced and confident. More specifically, someone barefaced and confident who wasn't also a rich, self-absorbed duke or count, looking to brown-nose his way into the queen's good graces in hopes of gaining more power and privilege. He was someone who was entirely comfortable in his own skin, and because of that, had the means of making the queen just a little bit jealous. He was unpredictable to her, nearly to the point where it was infuriating.

After the market, Elsa had gotten sick. It was sudden and she didn't know why it had happened since she didn't really feel nauseous at the time. Logan said it was probably the adrenaline, kicking in without warning at the market and then going through a more bodily reaction when it finally stopped. Whatever caused it, it was embarrassing and she felt her cheeks burn red with humiliation when she clambered off her horse and stumbled towards some nearby bushes like a clumsy drunkard. It was even worse when her guide stepped down from his own horse and came around to hold back her messy braid while she heaved. Logan dismissed it, claiming it wasn't anything he hadn't seen before and reminding her that vomiting wasn't exactly a voluntary thing.

Between that comment and the hair holding, Logan landed himself on a higher level of regard in her mind. It was one of the weirdest gestures of good will that she had ever received from anybody other than Anna and Olaf, but it was appreciated all the same. His tone was surprisingly gentle as he told her to get it out of her system while his face remained void of any judgmental notions. It was both comforting and disquieting in the sense that Elsa had no idea Logan was capable of being tender, and it had thrown her for yet another loop. Unless, the capability had always been there and she just hadn't noticed before.

After her brief bout of sickness, they immediately got back on the trail, soon falling back into the routine of rising at dawn, riding horseback all day, and setting up camp at dusk, but the hours didn't go by nearly as slowly now that they were on speaking terms.

When talking about the weather and the trees and that weird, wrinkly old guy wearing a purple sunhat they passed a few miles back, finally ran its course, Logan and Elsa were forced to talk about themselves. Understandably, that was something they both wanted to avoid, but for the lack of any better ideas, they decided to try it.

Logan offered up some information about himself first as a show of good faith, being both open and vague about his answers. He traveled a lot because of his job, but he originally hailed from a small town (where, exactly, he didn't say). He was an only child, raised mostly by his mother; an emotionally distant woman, seemingly trapped in a permanent state of heartbreak after being abandoned by his father not long before Logan was born. He admitted that he was a bit of a troublemaker when he was a boy. In his defense, he told Elsa that breaking the rules and pushing people's buttons were the only remotely interesting things to do in his one-horse hometown. His mother wasn't the most attentive parent that ever was, so it allowed him the freedom to get away with a lot of things.

When asked where his mother was now, he said he assumed she was still living in the town he was born in, with his step-father; also an emotionally stunted individual. He was never fond of Logan and the feeling was very much mutual. They fought constantly when he was growing up, never really forming a connection that would allow them to see each other as family. He wasn't close to either parent, which enabled him to skip town the first chance he got with little inhibitions about leaving his childhood home behind.

Elsa had a suspicion that it wasn't nearly as cut-and-dry as he made it all seem, but she felt it rude to pry further. The fact that he felt compelled enough to leave behind his mother - the person who gave him life and raised him. The person who everybody was meant to love unconditionally since birth - and pursue a life of questionable attributes - painted a sad, telling picture all on its own.

As a whole, it was a difficult thing to comprehend, even for someone like Elsa. Though there were many, many intense feelings of doubt and fear and lingering resentments surrounding her relationship with her parents, underneath it all, there was always love. Despite everything, Elsa loved her parents and they loved her.

Yes, on her worst days, the queen felt bitter towards her mother and father for a lot of things in her life. For not realizing that simple love and acceptance was the key to finally controlling her powers. For allowing their own fear to feed Elsa's and make her afraid to leave her room. For causing the decade-long fissure between her and Anna that still needed healing, even to this day. But she had long-since come to terms with the past and realized that her isolation was just as much her fault as it was theirs.

Her parents did not fear Elsa. They did not shy away from her, ever. Even on those bad days where Elsa couldn't control her emotions and the walls of her room became too much to bare and she covered every inch of them with ice. The king and queen never feared their eldest daughter, but they feared what she was able to do, what she was capable of. They feared another accident like the one in the ballroom, one that would essentially rob them of both of their daughters. They loved her _so_ much, they were willing to lock her away from the world. To protect her from both the people outside the castle walls, and from herself.

Knowing what she knew now, of course her isolation seemed entirely unnecessary. All they needed was Anna, the very thing Elsa was kept from, and she couldn't help feeling resentful towards herself and her parents. But Elsa's relationship with all members of her family was, above all else, complicated. She still deeply missed her parents, though, and she still laid in bed at night, staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom (or in this case, a sky full of stars), wishing to be held in their arms, if only for one last goodbye.

So, in regards to what Logan had told her, it was difficult to understand someone who, more or less, still had a set of parents, alive and (she'll assume) well, and not be close to them at all. But again, it was all a little too personal to dredge out any further. If he wanted her to know, he would've told her. He wasn't opposed to answering personal questions if she asked him, but it was clear that there were some things he'd rather keep private. Home life was one of them and his life after leaving his village was another. A big one, apparently.

He was nothing but flippant when talking about his childhood, but he was incredibly vague when Elsa asked about his life afterwards. He was strangely reserved, though understandably so. As an adult, one could get in far worse trouble than as a child. Trouble with more serious consequences that bred things like remorse, guilt, and regret. Things that most would rather keep buried where no one could see. Able to relate to this, Elsa respectfully let the matter drop.

When the conversation shifted focus on her, she told him about Arendelle.

She told him everything she could think of about her kingdom. To the territory lines stretching as far as the North mountain, to the ship docks and the quaint little shops where her and Anna used to go shopping. To the castle courtyard on one side of the kingdom and Oaken's Trading Post on the other, and every festival and special event in between. She spared almost no detail when it came to her kingdom, knowing she didn't have to be as careful when she was visually describing her home. However, much like Logan, she grew vague when it came to the people and happenings within the castle walls, only elaborating when there wasn't a risk of her accidentally giving herself away, or possible holes Logan could pick up on in her cover story.

She spun a tale of what it was like to live as a chambermaid for a princess. She drew inspiration from the many servants of her castle, namely Gerda, the real chambermaid to the royal sisters. Feeling particularly brave, she even shared some of her and Anna's adventures and exploits, though there weren't that many to share. Not as many as she would've liked.

With even more confidence, she told him about Kristoff and Sven (while purposely leaving out Olaf, because talking snowmen were always difficult to explain). They were much safer topics and definitely more entertaining than a pair of sisters trying to rebuild their relationship through awkward gestures and overzealous attempts at bonding that never seemed to go as planned, i.e. Anna's "perfect day" birthday celebration (stupid immune system).

Granted, she might've gotten a little carried away, riding on the nostalgia and fondness she felt when talking about her loved ones and the few happy times they spent together, but Logan didn't say anything about it. He listened and allowed her to indulge in her memories, probably knowing that it was something she desperately needed right now, even if she couldn't admit it. If she had accidentally let something slip at any point during her stories, he didn't call her out on it.

When she finally ran out of things to say about herself and her home, the two talked about anything and everything half-interesting that crossed their minds. The conversations would go smoothly for a while, sometimes even taking on a playful nature depending on the topic, but eventually one of them would say something to annoy or insult the other and another argument would ensue, followed by a cold shoulder for the faulting party, but it had become a pattern between them. In a bleak situation that neither of them had much of a choice in participating in, it was a comfort to know what to expect, despite the sour endings. As Elsa knew very well, it was better to have just a little control over something than no control at all.

She wouldn't go as far as to say this new change in routine was nice, but their exchanges were okay, at the very least.

However, the relative peace wouldn't last much longer. It was on the night of the second day that they had another run-in with the bandits.

They both knew beforehand, that even though they escaped the marketplace, the sighting of the queen gave the bandits a new trail to follow. It went unsaid that it would only be a matter of time before they crossed paths again. Logan did his best to put as much distance between them and the bandits as he could, laying a few diversions to throw them off the trail and give him and Elsa more miles between them, but he knew there wasn't much chance their makeshift booby-traps would succeed, and if one did, it would only give them a few hours advantage, at best.

They had been setting up camp that night. Logan had stricken up another topic of conversation for them, one a little more personal than the others, while they idled around their temporary campsite.

"So what's your situation?" He asked. "You gotta fella back home waiting for you? Is that why you're so desperate to get back?"

Elsa scoffed.

How typical. A woman couldn't do anything crazy and ill-advised in order to save a life without that life belonging to a man she was in love with, could they? Everything had to have a romantic undertone, didn't it? Elsa didn't want to believe the whole world was as woefully optimistic as her little sister, but it wasn't exactly going out of its way to prove otherwise. She felt a little disappointed by the question. The queen was just starting to enjoy her conversations with the man, rather than just tolerating them. It would be just like him to go and ruin it, wouldn't it?

"I already told you, I have to get back to warn the princess about the bandits. Eventually their leader is going to realize I'm not her - assuming he hasn't already - and when he does, he's going to go after her instead and I can't let that happen. We've already been blindsided by those bandits once before. I'm not going to just sit by and wait for them to take Anna when there's still a chance I can stop it."

The good thing about spending the first half of their journey in silence, was that it gave Elsa the time to work on her cover story. She was able to think up a few more details to make it sound more convincing, just in case it was ever brought up again. With almost no effort, the queen found herself falling into the role of Elsa Snow. It was almost jarring how fast her story began to build around itself and how more complex it became when given time to grow in her mind. After so many days, she was convinced it was now solid enough to withstand any scrutiny from her overly perceptive guide.

"How noble of you," Logan remarked dryly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "You must really care about her if you're willing to put up with a guy like _me_ to save her."

"Now you're starting to understand my pain, _finally_," She breathed sardonically, drawing a snicker from Logan.

Smart and sassy. He liked this side of Blondie. Much better than reserved and brooding. He could understand wanting to keep things professional, but she almost took standoffish to a whole new level.

"I told you. We've lived in the castle together our whole lives. We're practically sisters."

"Really? The whole "princess-servant" thing never got in the way of your relationship?"

No more than letting a simple locked door and a childhood accident come between a pair of _actual_ sisters, Elsa thought bitterly to herself. She shook her head, letting another short silence fall between them until Logan spoke up again.

"Why do _you_ have to take all this on? Doesn't your kingdom have some sort of royal guard, or police force whose job it is to protect the princess? Where were they when the bandits were attacking?"

"I've been wondering that myself," She grumbled, more to herself than Logan. "Obviously, whoever's in charge is going to have to make a few little changes in the future. They never stood a chance against those bandits."

Logan snickered again at her peeved expression.

"So, is that a "no" on the fella thing?"

"No, there's no fella," She rolled her eyes before giving him a wary look. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

"Asking a question once doesn't give you the leeway to consider someone wanting to know something _badly_," He argued. "But to answer _your_ question - not for the reason you're thinking, Sugar. Remember what I said about flattering yourself?

"Yes. No need to remind me."

"I just want to make sure I don't have an angry lover trying to kick my head off my shoulders as soon as we show up in your little kingdom together. That sort of thing _always_ happens to me whenever I take a job from a woman," He said before adding: "No offense."

"Really? Every time?"

"Yeah. There's always a stupid misunderstanding. The boyfriend sees me hanging around his girl, thinks we're fooling around, gets angry, and next thing I know, I'm getting punched in the face just for doing my job."

"Well, you did say your job requires a certain level of risk," Elsa remarked, her face twisting up slightly in the effort not to laugh at the amusing image that popped into her head.

"That's not risk. That's drama, and I'll have none of it," He said with a grunt as he pulled a particularly heavy pack off his horse and tossed it on the ground. "I'd rather face off with a large, inbred mountain man, wielding an axe and a short temper, than get in between a pair of "love birds" when they're having a domestic. Even I have my limits."

"Really? You seem like the kind of person who would be a magnet for drama," She said, before adding; "No offense."

"Well, you're not wrong, so none taken."

When Logan finished unpacking the supplies they needed for the night, he and Elsa set about collecting sticks and leaves to build a fire with. Once they had enough material to burn, Elsa took a seat on a nearby log and watched as Logan stacked the sticks accordingly before reaching over to a nearby bag and pulling out a box of matches. He easily lit the dried foliage with one match, something that the queen had taken notice of early in their journey. She knew next to nothing about camping and forest survival skills, but the act of using just one match reminded her of something Kristoff once said.

It had been one of his stories. The one where it was the dead of winter and he and Sven got separated from the rest of the ice harvesters, finding themselves lost in the middle of a bad blizzard. The weather was so bad, they couldn't navigate and had to take shelter in a cave near the North mountain. He talked about how cold and scared he had been, having only been about thirteen at the time. He managed to collect enough material to build a fire, but he almost ran through an entire box of matches before the young teen was finally able to start it. He said that lighting a fire with one match was really hard to do and a skill that he had yet to be taught. And although the storm dissipated enough by dawn the next morning for him and his reindeer to venture out and find their way back to Arendelle, Kristoff described it as one of the roughest nights of his life.

The story earned him a sympathetic "aww" and a peck on the cheek from Anna that, no doubt, made everything alright in Kristoff's mind, but that story (and the many others that involved her sister's boyfriend battling the element that Elsa had an unexplained control over) stuck with the queen for quite awhile afterwards. Watching Logan build a fire with just the one match had her mind drifting back to the image she had of teenage Kristoff, huddling in a dark cave somewhere near the lonely mountains with Sven, desperately trying to set the pitiful stack of twigs on the ground in front of him ablaze with fingers that refused to co-operate because they were stiff from cold.

Long streams of smoke started to drift up from the now burning sticks as Logan coaxed the growing flame into spreading to the rest of the makeshift firepit. When their campfire was big enough, he finally pulled his hands back and climbed to his feet, looking down at it with a satisfied smirk.

"Alright, be honest with me," He said while plopping down next to Elsa on the log and startling her out of her thoughts. "What's with the gloves?"

Her hands immediately moved closer together on her lap at the mentioning, twisting her fingers around themselves out of nervous habit. It wasn't the most intrusive question he could've asked, but she still felt herself become defensive, unable to help herself. She looked away from him and stared down at her lap. The light blue gloves on her hands seemed to tighten against her skin, trapping the digits inside a familiar prison of cotton and thread.

"It's nothing. I just..."

"You got a thing about dirt? Because I once knew this guy-"

"No," She sighed, cutting him off. "It's not that. It's more of a comfort thing. I used to have a pair of gloves just like these ones when I was young and I had this habit of putting them on whenever I was feeling anxious or overwhelmed. It was something my father thought up to help me cope and control my emotions better. I broke the habit for a couple of years, but with everything that has happened recently, I figured I could use every bit of comfort I could get. Anna would be horrified if she saw me wearing these."

She did her best to describe her history with gloves without mentioning the actual reason of concealing her mystical ice powers. Even after almost a week of traveling with him, Elsa still couldn't decide what would be a bigger shock for Logan; finding out about her powers, or finding out she was really a queen. Neither sounded very pleasant.

"Why do you wear your gloves?" She asked him, casually trying to divert the focus off of her.

He looked down at his fingerless work gloves, frayed from the wear and tear of his rough lifestyle. "For a much more practical reason, believe me. A few years back, when I was first starting out on my own, I got this really bad cut on my palm. I cut it climbing through a broken window and didn't tell anyone, thinking it wasn't that big of a deal. I was still learning how to fight at the time, still considered a "puppy" to the guy that was training me and I didn't want it to seem like I was whining over something stupid like a little kid. Turns out, my male pride screwed me over. The cut got infected and I got sick."

He held his left hand out to her and pulled back his glove for her to see.

"It wasn't anything life-threatening, but I can guarantee you, it wasn't any fun."

Elsa leaned in closer to get a better look. It wasn't that big of a scar, only about an inch and a half long, but she could spot the thin line of knitted skin along the junction of his thumb easily because of how much paler the scar was against the rest of his palm.

"Doesn't seem like much," She remarked.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," He said with a light chuckle, pulling his glove back into place. "But I should've known better. I've always had to be careful when it comes to cuts and open wounds. It's never a good thing when I get them."

"Isn't it never a good thing for everybody?" She glanced up at him with a small smirk, thinking he was just trying to be facetious.

To her surprise, he didn't return the smirk. He just shrugged his shoulders and diverted his gaze from hers.

"Yeah, usually, but me especially, Sugar. My cuts are _always_ bleeders. I've got the royal disease."

Elsa blinked at him. Royal disease? What was he talking about?

"What do you mean?"

"It's nothing," He dismissed as he leaned behind the log to pick up a nearby stick to use as a fire poker. "Just something an old friend of mine called it. I don't know what its real name is."

Confused by Logan's sudden change in demeanor, she was half inclined to ask what "it" was, but his stiff body language convinced her not to. Instead, she backtracked a bit in their conversation.

"Do you have any other scars?"

If it was even possible, Logan tensed even more at the question. He paused for a second from stoking the flames before continuing. "Yeah. A couple others."

It was a short answer that didn't leave any room for asking for any further elaboration and effectively ended the conversation. She pretended not to notice the way his arm moved subconsciously into his chest when he set down the stick next to his feet and moved to rest his forearms on his knees, letting his hands hang down between them.

Elsa had only one scar. It was just below her kneecap, nearly invisible because of the pallor of her skin. She had gotten it from a very sharp piece of ice when she was nineteen. It was the day the kingdom of Arendelle had received the news of their beloved rulers' shipwreck. Leaving Gerda to comfort a wailing Anna, Kai had personally made the long trek up to Elsa's room and regretfully told the eldest princess through her door that her parents were presumed dead. It had come so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that it was almost too surreal to face.

At the news, Elsa paced back and forth across her bedroom, her mind frantically trying to figure out how she was going to manage her secret now without her parents acting as a buffer between her and the outside world. The fact that her parents were _dead_, permanently gone, never to return, hadn't quite permeated her mind yet. It was like selective denial; she accepted that her secret might be compromised, but she couldn't accept what caused it. She was so deep in the act of keeping her powers hidden, it was the very first thing that came to mind when she was told the news of her parent's watery demise. When she should've been crying and asking "Why? Why them? I still need them", she was thinking "what am I going to do about my powers now?". It was _always_ about her powers, even when it wasn't, and it sickened her to think back on it now. It made her feel like she was a spoiled child who thought the world revolved around her and her problems.

She didn't know how much time she spent pacing her bedroom floor; pacing, fidgeting, and panicking, but not grieving. She had become blind to her surroundings, not noticing the way her ice crawled along the surface of her room, coating it in clouded frost until her aching feet snagged on a protruding icicle coming up from the ground. It sent her sprawling on to her rug. Her knee came in contact with another icicle and she yelped when she felt it bite into her skin. She laid on the ground for a few moments, stunned, before rolling on to her back and sitting up.

With a small hiss, she pulled back the skirt of her dress and spotted the small sliver of ice embedded below her knee. A stain of bright, red blood blossomed around the edges of the ice, discoloring her white stockings. The sharp bolts of pain shooting up her leg helped her brain finally process what had happened, that her parents were dead. She had broken down immediately afterwards, crying for the first time in years.

"Logan?" The queen spoke up, her mouth working without thought to keep herself from drifting into dark places.

"Hmm?"

"How much longer do we have to go until we reach Arendelle?"

It had taken her a while, but she finally asked it.

"Another week maybe. If the weather holds up," He replied, moving to pull out his knife with the intentions of sharpening it.

She flinched at the answer.

A week? They had been traveling for five days straight and they still had a week to go? It made Elsa wonder just how long exactly she had been gone from her kingdom. The journey from Arendelle to the bandits' hideout had been nothing more than a confusing blur, but she always assumed it had to be at least a week or so. Now though, she was starting to dread that it had been much longer than that. Was it going on a month now? Two? How long has the bandit leader kept her stolen from her kingdom? Her sister? Her home? How much more time did she have before people started to presume her dead too (if they haven't already)? She knew Anna would never stop looking for her, but the Arendelle royal council wasn't nearly as devoted. Elsa didn't have to be there to know that the second she had gone missing, the council was thinking of ways to wrestle away the new power Anna had over the kingdom.

"Why is he doing this to me?" Elsa asked herself out loud in a near whisper.

What had she ever done to deserve a pack of bandits chasing after her?

One of the most frustrating things she had to deal with during her time in captivity, was the question of _why_. Why did Dag take her? The one time he had spoken to her, he made his raid on her sister's wedding sound deliberate. It was clear she had been the target and the bandit leader knew about her ice powers. At first she thought, maybe, it was some revenge scheme. Plotted by one of the enemies she made during the great freeze, like Prince Hans, or the Duke of Weaselton. It wasn't a possibility that was ever canceled out or disproved, but after a few days of sitting in a dungeon with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company, Elsa thought constantly about other reasons for her kidnapping, never fully coming to a decision of which one seemed more plausible.

In the humid heat and suffocating air of the dungeon, everything seemed plausible. Even the ridiculous theory of the kidnapping being an elaborate set up by Marshmallow, the snow monster that guarded her ice palace, aiming for revenge on Elsa for taking back her tiara when he obviously liked wearing it.

She thought that gem up after three days of very little sleep.

"Dag's one messed up guy," Logan answered, easily guessing who Elsa was talking about. He didn't look up from where he was scraping his knife repeatedly against the sharpener he had packed away in his bag. The queen winced every time the sound of steel scraping against steel assaulted her ears. "His issues have issues. I wouldn't waste my time trying to figure him out. Best anyone can do is just avoid him and hope he leaves you alone."

"How do you know him?"

He glanced at her, seeming to mull over his answer before looking back at the fire. "How's that saying go? Know thy enemy? Their hideout is a couple miles away from that town Tobias took you to. Him and his gang usually operate mainly in that area, only leaving when going on a raid. Much like Toby and the townsfolk, I'm familiar with where the bandits are squatting, so I've had my fair share of run-ins with the lot."

"Do you think they're ever going to catch up with us?"

"Honestly, I really don't know...but if we keep moving forward and only stop when necessary, that should keep them from heading us off. If we all stay on middle ground, I should be able to get us out of any jams we might get into because of them. We still have a few days of horseback to go, but after we reach the halfway point of our little road trip, I should be able to get us a shortcut by ship which will knock a few days off-"

Elsa's head perked up at what Logan had said, but not with excitement.

"After we dock again, the rest of the trip should go smoothly. Assuming of course that we don't-"

"Ship?" She echoed, cutting him off. "Did you say ship?"

There was an awkward pause in the air as Logan looked at her. "Uh, yeah, I said ship. I know a docking port in this kingdom where a buddy of mine lives. He should be able to help us hitch a ride on a ship that trades with Arendelle."

"You never said anything about going out to _sea_," She pointed out with trepidation in her voice. Her heart started to beat a little faster and she could feel the fabric of her gloves growing stiff with cold. "The bandits didn't take me on a ship. I-I would've remembered. Why do we have to go on a ship?"

Logan blinked at her owlishly, noticing how she was starting to get worked up. "I just said it was a shortcut-"

"I'm not going on any ship, that wasn't part of our agreement," She snapped, surprising him.

Logan's eyes narrowed at her tone of voice, "Our _agreement_ was that I would take you back to Arendelle. The question of how I was going to do that never came up."

Elsa shook her head, acutely aware that she was acting a little irrational, but unable to stop herself. She stood up from the log and put her foot down (figuratively speaking, of course).

"I said no," She declared. "I'm not going on any ship."

Logan let out a frustrated groan as he stood up from the log too. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't realize that sailing was going to be another one of your bizarre hang-ups, but you said you wanted to get back to Arendelle as soon as possible and this is the quickest way. We're not even going to be that far out into open sea. We'll be on the water for a day, just _one_ day, and after we dock, there'll be several different paths we can take to Arendelle instead of just the one. We'll have a much better chance at shaking the bandits, for good."

It made sense. Of course it did. It made complete sense.

However, Elsa couldn't stop herself from focusing on the "ship" part of his plan. She hated ships. Her parents died five years ago on a ship. They died sailing the ocean to a formal event. They died in the middle of a violent storm, the dark waves of the sea swallowing their ship whole, leaving no known survivors behind. If there was one thing Elsa learned from that horrible experience, it was that nature was unpredictable and unconcerned with the fleshy creatures that inhabited its world. The way in which her parents perished bred a brand new fear in Elsa. A fear of the ocean.

After her parents died, Elsa had absolutely no interest in stepping a single foot on a ship.

When they were planning the wedding, Anna had broached the subject of maybe spending her and Kristoff's honeymoon traveling. The young princess loved the idea of jumping aboard a ship and visiting different coasts from different lands, exploring new places and meeting new people, but Elsa had shot down the idea the second it left her sister's mouth. It wasn't something Anna had her heart set on, but Elsa could still see the flash of disappointment in her eyes when she told her sister no. It hurt Elsa to say no. She had always done her best to give Anna whatever she wanted, to give her and Kristoff the perfect wedding. The queen wasn't opposed to Anna traveling far away for her honeymoon, but she couldn't approve of Anna going anywhere by ship.

She always had this fear, this unsettling image inside her head, every time she thought about either her or Anna getting on a ship and sailing out to sea. The image would start off beautiful enough, with the breathtaking scenery of the open, endless sea. The sun would be shining overhead and the wind would be blowing through the sails, but the peacefulness wouldn't last long. Black storm clouds would come out of nowhere and shroud them in darkness as lightning replaced the sun. They would be caught in the middle of a raging storm, just like their parents, with the sea crashing harshly against the sides of the vessel, threatening to capsize and drown the people on board. Elsa would reach out to her sister and hold her close as they fought to keep their balance. Her powers would react and spiral out of control. Her ice would converge around her and Anna, freezing them both in a block of ice. They would fight to break free, but the storm would knock them overboard and send them into the water where they would sink down into eternal darkness and join their parents in a graveyard at the bottom of the ocean.

As foolish as it was, she couldn't see past her fear and realize how much a shortcut would benefit them. And she couldn't stop and take the time to think about it rationally because every second that passed with the idea of going out to sea plaguing her mind, Elsa felt her powers build deep inside her, ready to burst free at the first opportunity.

"I'm sorry," She shook her head again. "But I can't. I can't go on a ship."

"And why not?" Logan asked, his tone cutting and his arms folded across his chest.

"It's..it's complicated. I can't really explain..."

She risked casting a regretful look at Logan, but the man shook his head and turned away from her with a scoff.

"Unbelievable."

He began to walk off, only stopping to pick up his knife from the ground and put it back in its holster before continuing on. Elsa watched as he moved to leave camp and head off into the surrounding forest.

"Where are you going?" She called out to him.

He didn't reply as he disappeared behind a cluster of bushes.

~O~

Logan backtracked to the main trail and walked along the dirt path, kicking at the rocks on the ground while mumbling under his breath. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants and his shoulders hunched up almost to his ears to ward off the cold breeze that was starting to blow in.

He would eventually turn around and make his way back to camp, but he needed to sulk for a little while without having Elsa nearby, watching him with wide, blue eyes. He needed some time to himself to understand what had just happened.

Sugar confused him more than anybody he had ever known. In his experience, people were always straightforward and easy to understand, and when they weren't, that usually meant they were lying or trying to pull some kind of trick on him, in which case he would deal with them accordingly, but Blondie was difficult to get a read on. She didn't look like much, but he just _knew_ there was something funny about her. Whatever it was, it rubbed raw on his nerves and sat heavily underneath his skin like a tick.

He had no idea where that recent episode came from. He goes out of his way to come up with a faster route to Arendelle that would help them avoid the bandits better, and the woman doesn't want to take it? He practically hands her a better solution to their biggest problem on a silver platter and she says no? What kind of game was she playing at? She had just spent half a day talking about her home and her family like they were the one and only saving grace she had in her entire world. She told him repeatedly how important it was that she return home as soon as possible so she could warn them about the approaching danger. Why would she say no to an easy shortcut?

It was obvious that the idea of sailing bothered her very much, but from what Logan knew of her so far, he didn't expect her to bow down to that fear. He didn't peg her as someone who was ruled by it. She wasn't the most competent person he had ever known, especially under pressure, but she had guts, and he admired her for that. There weren't many people out there that are willing to do what Elsa has done to get back to a kingdom that, honestly, probably wasn't even looking for her. She may be a close friend of the princess, but Logan couldn't imagine any kingdom going out of its way to look for a simple chambermaid when they could easily get a replacement. Royal politics just didn't work that way.

Still though, the woman kept at it.

Up until then, he had thought Elsa knew what she was up against - _who_ she was up against, but now, he wasn't so sure. He was _not_ kidding around when he said Dag was a screwed up person, and the men who followed him weren't much better.

The bandit gang that had been chasing Elsa called themselves "The Demon's Fang". Not exactly Logan's first choice as a name, especially since Demon Fang Gang _wasn't_ the original name for the group, but Dag had changed it when he came into power after the original leader died. The gang was more of a _clan_ back then. A clan Logan had no qualms being a part of.

But things were different now - had been different, and just like the name would imply, it wasn't exactly a collection of men a young woman like Elsa would want to be followed by. She was right about one thing, though. Dag would eventually realize she wasn't Princess Anna, and when he did, he would kill her without hesitation if he had her in his possession. He didn't hold on to anything that wasn't useful, and that included people. And Logan would definitely be in some trouble of his own for helping Elsa.

Despite how he acted, this wasn't just some run-of-the-mill escort mission for him. He was at just as much risk as Elsa was and it would be in both their best interests if she would just get over herself and get on a goddamn ship. After everything they had been through so far, and what they still had to face, sailing should be the _least_ of her worries.

In any case, there wasn't much he could do about it now. They were still a few days off from the kingdom he planned to hitch a boat ride from and they still had the bandits to worry about. So until then, he would do what he could to try and convince Elsa to change her mind. If she didn't, then he would have no choice than to come up with some sort of ultimatum for her. He wasn't quite sure what that would be, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

In real time, Logan didn't know how long he had spent walking along the trail, running around in circles inside his head, but by the time he finally pulled his head out of his ass and noticed his surroundings, it was too late to do anything evasive when he spotted three figures standing at the base of a fork in the road, about twenty feet in front of him. He could see the red and black of their uniforms even with the sun now completely set. He stopped abruptly in his tracks and let out a groan.

It was another trio of bandits, different than the ones he took down in the market. He didn't recognize the two cronies hanging back, but he knew the one standing in the front. He was a dark-skinned, Hispanic man with curly black hair, undistinguished brown eyes, and a closely cut mustache and goatee. He stood tall despite his short height, easily establishing his status as patrol leader with his arrogant way of holding himself; shoulders cocked back like a preening rooster and his head held high.

"Logan!" The Spaniard called out with a toothy grin on his face, opening his arms out wide like he was about to greet an old friend. It made Logan want to laugh bitterly. Him and Joaquin went way back, but they were anything but friends.

The bandit was Joaquin Chavez, Dag's current right hand man and probably the most levelheaded member of the entire bunch. He had been with the bandit gang for years, originally hailing from Spain. Although the gang had traveled far and wide, picking up new members of all shapes and sizes along the way, Joaquin was the most exotic of the immigrants that ever joined the gang, and also the most skilled with a sword - being the self-proclaimed, master swordsman that he was. Logan eyed the rapier sheathed to other man's belt, his weapon of choice.

It would be stupid of him to think that his run-in with Joaquin was anything other than intentional, no matter how the man tried to act otherwise. The trio had either been waiting for Logan to appear, or they had been on their way to his and Elsa's campsite. Someone in the last town the two travelers had stopped in must've tipped the bandits off.

Seeing no other choice than to accept their approach, Logan straightened his back and stood defensively with his hands curled into fists at his sides.

"Out of all the trails in the forest - out of all the forests in this big, lovely rock we call home - we happen to run into _you_. Fancy that!"

The man spoke animatedly with a mixed accent of Spanish origin and English idioms. He was a charming bastard when he aimed to be, Logan would give him that, but Joaquin was even more pretentious with speech than he was.

"Yeah, fancy that," Logan replied dryly, still staring down the trio with obvious distrust.

Joaquin's brown-eyed gaze flickered across Logan's sour expression, taking note of the younger man's hostility. He didn't seem too put off by it, though. It only made his smirk climb higher on his face as more teasing remarks pooled inside his mind. Back in the day, they always made a game of pushing each others buttons, seeing which one of them would lash out first. He was curious to see if Logan could still play as well as he used to.

He took a step forward and raised a hand to Logan, wagging a finger at him with an amused chuckle. "You know, when my boys came staggering back into camp with their tails between their legs and blood leaking from their faces, I figured you might've had something to do with it."

Logan didn't respond, but the Spaniard didn't expect him to. The younger man always had to be so negative that way. Joaquin never understood that kind of attitude. The kid used to always walk around with a big chip on his shoulder like some tortured soul. There wasn't much of an age difference between the two of them and neither had been alive long enough to accumulate any _real_ ghosts, so he never understood why Logan had to be so bitter. They hadn't stood across from each other in years, but Joaquin could tell he hadn't changed one bit.

"I know it was a bit of a stretch to assume you were the one to beat up my boys since until two days ago, I was convinced you've been _dead_ for almost three years now, but when they told me what happened - how a ragged-haired pretty boy with a pissy temper, swooped in and took away our little blonde _joya, _I couldn't help but think we were visited by the ghost of bandithood past. But here you are, _vivo y bien_! I can hardly believe my eyes!"

"What do you want, Joaquin?" Logan asked, cutting to the crux of their encounter. His eyes kept skimming the treeline behind the three bandits, searching for signs of any reinforcements that might be hiding behind the dwindling leafage. He could feel the muscles in his legs twitching with the desire to bolt back to camp and make sure Joaquin hadn't gotten the jump on him and attacked Elsa. The thought had him cursing himself in his head for stupidly leaving the girl alone.

"Message for you, from the _jefe_. I'm sure you remember him."

"How could I forget?" He replied with mock banter. "I would ask how Dag's been doing lately, but I think I can guess."

Joaquin tsked him. "You know he doesn't like it when outsiders interfere with his business. He knows it's you, Logan. Don't ask me how, but he does."

"I'd be disappointed if he didn't," Logan shot back coolly, trying to maintain a sense of apathy to hide the fact that his hackles were very much raised. His mind immediately drifted to Tobias, the only person who could've possibly told Dag that Logan had become involved in their little situation with Elsa. The old man was crotchety, but he would've never told Dag anything, not willingly. Telling the bandit leader would've been a potential death sentence for both Elsa and Logan. Tobias valued his morals above everything. The possibility that Dag had gotten to him made Logan worry for the old man.

"He understands that there's been a mix-up with the girl. He knows you didn't mean to stand between him and his property and he's willing to let it slide if you hand her over to us now without any more violence or protest. It's a fair offer, if I say so myself."

Logan's fists tightened at his sides as his anger mounted inside his chest. He didn't know which part of that he should be more ticked off by. The fact that Joaquin actually thought Logan was stupid enough to fall for such a poor ruse of handing over Elsa, like Dag was actually some kind of tolerant individual, capable of feeling basic human emotions and was willing to ignore Logan's defiance, even though they all knew there was no goddamn misunderstanding. Or the fact that the Spaniard had just referred to Elsa as "property".

He didn't care how difficult the fair-haired woman could be - _people weren't objects_.

This whole thing was bullshit. Dag didn't do parley. If he couldn't get what he wanted by slashing and burning everything in his path, then he opted to using lying and manipulation. If Logan had to guess, Joaquin and his men were alone; sent to scout ahead while the rest of the group hung back, which meant they weren't right on top of him and Elsa and they still had a chance to avoid a direct confrontation. Logan had seen first hand what Dag could do when he strived to do his worst, and it was enough to never want to get involved with the man again. He wasn't going to risk it. Any sugared words were infectious snake bites in disguise. The first chance he got, Logan was going to book it back to camp, get Elsa and their supplies, and get the hell out of there.

"If this is another one of his power trips, I rather you come at me now. I'm in no mood for games. If this is going to happen, then do it now. Otherwise, piss off. Your ugly mugs aggravate me," Logan challenged darkly.

The two men stared each other down, both dominant creatures, alpha males - waiting for the moment when the precarious balance between them finally tipped over and they were thrown into action. Logan had a small advantage over the Spaniard, being inches taller than him, but Joaquin stood proud regardless, blatantly disregarding the fact that Logan had always been a better fighter than him, and could easily take him on should they get into it. He had seen the state his men had been in when they returned from the market and knew he didn't have the advantage of numbers. Logan clearly hadn't let himself fall out of practice.

Joaquin was proud, but he wasn't stupid. He stepped down first, knowing anything less would be counterproductive.

"Alright," the Spaniard smiled, holding his hands up in a poor attempt at coming off as disarming. "I'll tell him you weren't interested then."

Logan rested his hand on the hilt of his knife, not expecting that to be the end of it.

To his surprise though, it was.

Instead of attacking like he expected him to, Joaquin only backed up with his hands still raised in front of his chest and an arrogant smirk on his face. He smiled like he knew something Logan didn't and found it amusing that Logan didn't take him up on his boss' _gracious_ offer. It was a look Logan wanted to punch off his cocky face. However, it seemed like Joaquin truly intended to leave. That was the important thing. He motioned for his two men to fall back and mount their horses.

"You've always been a sly _perro_, haven't you, Logan? I'd keep the little _joya_ close if I were you," Joaquin chided almost playfully, still unable to resist fighting Logan for the last word.

"And I'd keep walking away if I were _you,_" Logan threw back.

Joaquin chuckled mockingly again as he finally turned on his heel and walked towards his horse. Logan didn't move from his spot until all three bandits were riding down the road, going back wherever they came from.

Only when they were completely gone from sight, did he turn himself around and retrace his steps back into the forest. He pushed through the bushes and trees of the forest as quickly as he could without seeming erratic, inching closer to the speck of orange light in the distance that signified their makeshift camp.

"Change of plans," He said as soon as he stepped into the light of the campfire. "Pack everything up."

Elsa looked up from where she was staring intently at the ground, startled by his abrupt reappearance. "What?"

"We're not staying out here tonight. There's a town about an hour down the road. We'll find an inn and stay there for the night."

His tone was curt and final, not leaving much room for argument as he grabbed the first pack he could find and started a pile of supplies near their horses. He expected her to start asking questions about his sudden desire to pack up and leave after only stopping a little while ago, but again, to his surprise, he didn't meet any resistance.

There was a moment there where she looked up at him with her mouth open and her jaw slightly quivering, stuck between the motion of speaking and keeping quiet. He could tell that she wanted to say something to him, could see it in her eyes, but in the end whatever it was could apparently wait until later. She closed her mouth with silent resolve as she abruptly stood from the log and began packing up the supplies closest to her.

Somewhere in the back of his head, Logan noted how strange it was that she didn't protest at this sudden, and seemingly random, move of his. Granted, over the past few days she had gotten better at doing what he asked of her, but not without questioning him about it first. If he wasn't so preoccupied with packing up their stuff and avoiding a potential ambush, he would have commented on her new compliance. He wasn't sure whether to take it as a good thing or a bad thing, since there was never a shortage of cold shoulders between them. It was a productive thing, though. So that had to count for something.

Without a word, the two moved about their campsite and collected their supplies. They established a system of packing up their stuff. Elsa would bring the packs over into a neat pile near their horses and Logan would load them up one by one. He did his best not to appear agitated or disturbed by what just happened. He didn't want to alarm the woman. The last thing he needed was for her to start panicking. It was really going to suck navigating to that town in almost complete darkness and he didn't need Elsa firing off question after question when he was nearly a hundred percent sure Joaquin's patrol was the only one close enough to cause them any problems.

The strangeness didn't stop, though. While he was working, Logan could feel Elsa's eyes on him the entire time. Her glances were almost covert enough for him to miss, but they were frequent. Frequent enough for him to get the sensation that someone was watching him. He didn't return the glances, knowing she would just look away as soon as he did. He only kept working. It wasn't until they were almost done that Logan realized there was something really wrong.

Elsa had been walking over with another stack of supplies bundled in her arms. She moved with swift strides towards the horses, peeking over the side of her stack every now and again to make sure she wasn't going to run into anything. At one point though, she must've missed a rock or maybe a protruding tree root, because in one moment she was walking without trouble towards Logan and the horses, but then in the next, her foot snagged on something halting and she stumbled forward with a surprised yelp. Logan reacted without thought when he saw her supplies fly from her arms and scatter across the ground from the corner of his eye. He quickly turned and rushed forward, dodging the rolled up blanket sailing towards his head and grabbing Elsa's forearms, steadying her and keeping her from falling face first on to the ground.

"Whoa, careful," He said, taking the blunt of her weight so she could correct her footing.

Her reaction to his assistance had been a little less than appreciative.

As soon as she regained her balance and was stable enough to stand on her own, the woman practically yanked hers arms out of Logan's hands, not even waiting two seconds for him to remove them himself. He blinked at her in surprise and confusion, but she didn't raise her eyes to meet his. She only shoved past him like he wasn't even there and collected up her fallen supplies. The movement and cold body language was explicit, intentionally done to show him that she didn't want him anywhere near her.

Now he was the one eyeing her. The silence between them held as Elsa straightened out her cloak and hoisted herself on to her horse where she proceeded to wait for Logan to finish up with a tight frown on her face, putting a lot of bodily effort into keeping her eyes forward and off of him. He opened his mouth a couples times to say something to her, just like she had done to him, but when nothing came to mind, he closed it again and continued to work. He couldn't help but feel a little out of the loop. He couldn't figure out where Elsa's sudden animosity came from.

It could've had something to do with the whole ship thing and Logan's less than polite reaction to it, but he had an inkling that it wasn't.

Something had changed in the short time he had been gone. He couldn't quite pin it down, but he knew something was up. Sugar had a stiffness to her spine and a refusal to meet his gaze that was all too familiar. Her skittishness had returned and he could feel the tension in the air returning, so thick he could cut it with his knife.

Something new was brewing in Elsa's head and Logan had a feeling it had something to do with him.

* * *

**AN: Blegh, I didn't really like this chapter. It turned out way longer than I thought it would.**

**One thing with the language used in this chapter. I only speak English, so I will be primarily using Google Translate to help me with any foreign language words. In this chapter, Joaquin was using Spanish words, which I believe are correct. I won't be doing any full sentences in other languages, just because I don't want to risk screwing up and offending someone - and also, there really isn't any need for me to use full sentences.**

**As for the bandit gang name - kinda cheesy. I couldn't really think of anything clever, so I had to use a name generator. I thought about using something more Norwegian, since that's where Frozen takes place, but the bandit gang doesn't originally come from Norway, so I couldn't do that. I'm not so sure yet where, exactly, the gang/clan originates from, but they're more nomadic than anything, so I gave them a more generalized name. Plus, how creative can bandits be when naming their gang? Bandits are known for their stealing and raiding - not their creativity. So get off my back. **

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	8. Logan's Lie, Elsa's Folly

**AN: Special thanks to Batman1809, MalignHero, Kapra90, Enchiladas and the few Anons that actually reviewed last chapter. Greatly appreciate it.**

**Seriously guys? I said that this story was going to be very review-based. If I don't feel like anyone's interested in seeing an update, I'm not going to make an effort to update frequently. My time could be much better spent somewhere else. I put a LOT of work into each chapter I post. I certainly don't have to, but I like to, and it may sound a little selfish, but I'd like to know my efforts are being appreciated. The only reason why this update came at all, was because I already had a sizable portion of it done beforehand and I didn't want it to go to waste.**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (1/3/16)**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or its characters.**

* * *

The tension between Elsa and Logan did not let up the entire ride into town.

It was quieter than death as she rode several paces behind him, leaving a sizable gap between them. On more than one occasion he told her to speed up before she lagged too far behind, but she ignored him, firmly keeping her distance. Her eyes bore intensely into Logan's back, never once wavering as she gripped the reigns of her horse so tight, her knuckles turned a stark, milky white.

Whatever small semblance of trust that may have been built between them these past few days on horseback had now completely crashed and burned. She knew what he was now. She had seen the signs. She put the pieces together. And now she had come to a horrible realization about her guide.

She didn't know what had compelled her into following him when he first left camp. If the late night outing hadn't turned out the way it did, Elsa would've marveled at how her presence went entirely undetected by Logan, who always seemed to be acutely aware of his surroundings. It must have been a true testament of how annoyed he was with her. She almost considered apologizing when he came back to camp, if only to bridge the new gap and insure he wasn't going to go back on their agreement. That is, until she witnessed his confrontation with another trio of bandits.

The queen watched the scene unfold silently from a thicket of bushes on the side of the road, crouching down low to the ground to avoid being seen and willing away the growing ache it created in her knees and ankles. She knew it was a huge risk, staying and eavesdropping on the conversation, but in spite of herself she couldn't pull away. Partly because she was worried her clumsy departure would alert the bandits, and also because her curiosity got the best of her.

Immediately, there were several things that both confused and alarmed Elsa about the interaction between Logan and the bandits.

Firstly, there was the obvious familiarity between Logan and the apparent leader of the small patrol. Though there was blatant hostility on both sides, Elsa didn't like how they were on a first name basis with each other. It shouldn't have come as a shock since Logan had told her repeatedly how well-informed he liked to be in almost every aspect of his job and life. There was also the fact that Tobias was familiar with the gang for similar reasons, due to his home and their hideout being located so close together. However, Elsa felt it was all relevant somehow to the precarious exchange taking place a few yards in front of her and she didn't quite know what to make of it yet.

Secondly, it was now impossible to further fuel the whimsical fantasy that they could out run the bandits forever, which was a big disappointment just in itself.

Thirdly, Elsa actually recognized the bandit Logan was speaking to. She had only caught glimpses of "Joaquin" during her stint in captivity, but she was certain she had seen him before. People of his unique ethnic persuasion weren't common around these parts and it would've required a conscious effort for Elsa to purge his dark skin and suave accent from her mind.

And lastly, his tattoo.

Not Logan's. Not the one on his neck (though it bore a disturbing resemblance and no doubt centered around the same meaning). No, she noticed Joaquin's tattoo. It had been on his forearm, wrapped around his dark skin like a snake, reaching all the way up to his elbow and possibly continuing on underneath his tunic sleeve.

Although Elsa had only seen a small portion of Logan's tattoo (she assumed the black lines on the crook of his neck were part of a bigger design that she had yet to become privy to), she could see that the Spaniard's was a black tribal design, like Logan's.

She would've marked it up to coincidence because she never was one to face the truth head on without employing a small ounce of avoidance maneuvers, but it was hard to further deny a connection when she studied the other two bandits hanging back and discovered they had similar tattoos as well. The first bandit had one on his face. He didn't have his red hood up to shroud his identity and Elsa saw it running down the length of his temple before curling inward and stopping on the apple of his bristled cheek. The second bandit had a more circle design on the top of his hand, much smaller than his comrades', but just as obvious without gloves because of the thick, black coloring and boldness of the lines.

Elsa's blue eyes widened when she came to an instant conclusion. She had to slap a hand over her mouth to keep the shocked gasp from escaping and giving her away. It was all just too much of a coincidence. Once the idea had entered her head, the many jumbled puzzles pieces that made up Logan's attitude and identity finally fell into place, revealing something that she had suspected all along about her guide; that he was something dangerous and someone that should be avoided.

Logan was a bandit.

Or used to be one. Or possibly _still_ one. She couldn't know for sure.

It all seemed to make sense now. His shadiness, his fighting skills, his hesitance to talk about his past, his intimate knowledge of the bandits' leader and how they operate, the similar tattoos. On their own, these signs could be easily overlooked or rationalized, but when placed right next to each other in a neat little row of facts and evidence, it was jarring how much it revealed. In the beginning, Elsa chalked most of these up to just common knowledge in the area where she had met Logan, just as it had been for Tobias. Now she could see it ran much deeper than that.

As she sat crouched behind the bushes, still as stone, Elsa's mind started to race with dozens of questions, suspicions and possibilities.

Has this whole journey just been some elaborate plot to bring Elsa back into the bandits' hold? Was this a sick joke thought up by their demented leader to make Elsa feel safe from danger only to drag her back into hell the moment she let her guard down? Had Dag sent Logan to trick her? Had he been in on it since the beginning? Had _Tobias_? Could she even trust that her saving grace had really been on her side? If so, was the old man aware that he had deposited the queen directly into the hands of her enemy? She wanted to slap herself for not figuring all this out sooner. For not seeing the signs that had been dangling right in front of her face. None of this boded well for her.

Without staying to see how the interaction between Logan and Joaquin ended (a bitter part of her hoped it ended badly and her lying guide never returned to camp), Elsa finally forced her legs to move and she slowly inched her way back towards camp, only feeling confident enough to stand up again when she was far out of earshot. She had left behind a patch of frost on the ground behind the bushes, but she couldn't worry about that right now.

When Logan came back to camp, Elsa placed herself just as he had left her, using whatever strength she had left in her to act as casual and unaware as possible. She did as she was told and packed up their supplies. Her compliance itself should've been a little bit suspicious, but Logan didn't noticed. She realized with meek satisfaction that she had successfully tailed him without being caught. The only time when he was finally made aware that something was wrong was when Elsa almost tripped and he reached out to steady her. She flinched away from his touch almost violently. It definitely tipped him off that something was amiss. She didn't care, though. She didn't want him touching her.

It wasn't like she felt betrayed by him or anything like that. There wasn't nearly enough trust and faith between them to warrant that sort of response. She felt angry that she had been deceived, though. She also felt afraid of what was coming next. She was afraid of what this all meant for her and wondered if it would be better to sit and wait things out, or cut her losses as soon as she could and run. Would he come after her if she did? Throughout the ride, he glanced over his shoulder at her and Elsa was conflicted on how to meet his eyes. As a whole, she was stuck between a frustrating state of flight-or-fight, almost completely defeating the whole purpose of the quick-response instinct.

When they finally reached the town Logan had talked about, they paid a farmer on the outskirts for a place to tie up their horses and supplies for the night inside his barn before the duo made their way towards the town's market. Logan claimed there were a few items that he needed to purchase from the market before they checked into an inn for the night, but didn't disclose what those items were. Not that Elsa really cared. She was still struggling with her thoughts. She dutifully trailed behind Logan as they walked the small market and her eyes scanned her surroundings, looking for an exit route should she need it.

Neither spoke as they zigzagged throughout the market. At first, Elsa made no note of what Logan was buying, but when she finally noticed that he purchased a bundle of thick rope and metal wire, along with some sort of chemical liquid in an unmarked, green bottle which he had obtained from a very shady looking man in an alleyway, the queen couldn't help but let her imagination get away with her. What on earth could he possibly need all that for? Why wasn't he buying food and medical supplies like he did on all their other supply stops? It worried her, especially when the next place they stopped at was a weapon stand, set up outside the town's blacksmith.

When she saw Logan appraise the stand's selection before picking up yet another knife - a small, silver dagger with an ornate handle and a matching sheath - and begin haggling over the price with the merchant, Elsa finally decided to act. It was a split decision that was bred mostly from panic, but it was a decision nonetheless. The glint of the dagger and her pale reflection along its shining length spurred her into action. She didn't know why Logan needed to purchase another knife when he already had a perfectly sharp, intimidating one strapped to his pant leg, but she didn't intend to stick around and find out.

His back was turned to her and his attention was elsewhere so it had been easy to slip away. The marketplace of this town laid closer to the edges of the territory, as opposed to the last marketplace that settled directly in the heart of the bustling community. Elsa was able to back away and move through the scarce crowd and make her way back towards the treeline of the surrounding forest where upon she twirled on her heels, causing her maroon skirt and blue cloak to flare out with the sudden movement, and finally broke out into a run.

Back with Logan, the weapon merchant looked up from their haggling when he noticed the young woman accompanying the other man suddenly back away from his stand and bolt. He cocked a curious brow at her retreating form before glancing at Logan questioningly, who showed no outward signs that he noticed anything.

"Where's your lady friend going?" The merchant asked, pointing at the queen as she made a beeline for the forest.

"Hm?" Logan glanced over his shoulder, his eyes following the merchant's hand while his face was the picture of ambivalence. He watched Elsa disappear behind the trees with a blank expression before turning forward again and looking back down at the coins in his hand. "Who knows. She's a weird chick."

The merchant looked in between the young man and the forest with an uneasy frown. "Are you going to go after her? The woods aren't safe at night."

"In a second," He replied flippantly, holding out the agreed upon price to the older man. He gave the merchant a reassuring wink as he deposited the coins into his waiting hand and exchanged them for the dagger. "Don't worry, pop. She's a smart cookie, but she has a shit sense of direction. She won't get far."

In the forest, Elsa thought derisively to herself how moronic it was that she had allowed herself to fall into this particular situation so many times; running away from bandits through a dark forest. What a horrible pattern that was. One that she apparently couldn't break.

The moon provided very little lighting for her path ahead, just barely enough to keep her from running straight into a tree. It did nothing to banish the majority of the shadows that cloaked her surroundings. It was difficult to navigate her way through, especially since she knew little about direction to begin with. It was mostly blind faith; the hope that if she kept running long enough, she would eventually come across something promising. Unfortunately, luck was never a concept Elsa was particularly intimate with. It didn't take a superior woodland tracker to know she wasn't really getting anywhere.

As further evidence to that, just when she started to think she had just gone in one big circle, Elsa let out a scream as a dark shadow suddenly jumped down from above, seemingly out of nowhere like a bird of prey, and landed right in front of her. She skidded to a halt in mid-dash and reared backwards to avoid crashing into the figure, causing her to lose her balance. She landed flat on her bottom and winched as a sharp pang ran up her tailbone and pooled along the small of her back.

There was a moment of silence as Elsa's eyes finally adjusted to the dark forest and she saw Logan standing in front of her. She looked upwards, utterly dumbstruck, as she tried to figure out where in the world he had just come from. It took her a few seconds to realize that the only place he could've jumped down from was the treetops. The dead leaves that floated down and collected around them confirmed that he had indeed jumped down from one of the high branches of the nearest oak tree. Elsa couldn't help but stare unabashed at him for it, picturing the man scaling the treetops like a goddamn monkey in the jungle.

His stance was lax, appearing not at all upset by her sudden escape attempt. In fact, he seemed almost amused by it. He gave her a lopsided smirk with an almost patronizing spark in his eyes that said: '_Did you really think that was going to work? You're so adorable._'

"Hey there, Flighty. Out for an evening run?" Logan looked down at her from where he stood, noting with bemused curiosity that she was trying to distance herself from him, crawling backwards and kicking up dirt like a frantic animal that was trying to escape a predator. He cocked his head to the side and frowned. "What's your problem now?"

"Y-you're one of them!" She pointed a shaky, accusatory finger at him.

"One of who?"

"A bandit! You're one of the bandits!"

"What are you-"

"Don't! Don't try to pretend you have no idea what I'm talking about! I saw their tattoos! They're just like yours - the one on your neck! They're some sort of gang marking!"

Logan's eyes widened a little, his hand coming up to rub at the aforementioned marking on his neck. He stared down at Elsa with a searching look, his eyes darting back and forth across her face as he connected the dots in his head. He then let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes, realizing that he had been found out. Elsa took the opportunity to scramble back onto her feet. She didn't bolt right away despite her head telling her to, but her legs twitched nervously underneath her skirt. She watched her guide closely with her breath elevated from running and ice cold eyes.

"Say something!" Elsa snapped, unable to take the silence.

"Alright, alright," He said, opening his eyes again and holding his hands up in a calming gesture. "Just take a breath and let me explain-"

"No! No explaining! You're just going to lie more and it's not going to work! I want you to admit it! Admit you're one of _them_!"

"How are we supposed to figure this out if I can't explain myself, huh?" He asked, taking a step towards her with his hands still raised, asserting himself as the rational one.

Elsa took a step back, keeping the distance between them. "There's nothing to figure out anymore. I know what you are and who you work for. I'm not interested in anything you have to say! I'm leaving!"

The queen twisted on her heel and moved to stomp away in the other direction, intent on getting as far away as possible. She heard Logan let out a loud snort behind her, spurring her to step harder in her growing anger and leave behind deep imprints against the ground with her heeled boots.

"Oh yeah?" He called out to her. "And where would you be leaving to, hm? Arendelle? Yeah, that'll show me! You don't even know where the hell you're going!"

"I'll manage," She called back over her shoulder without a hitch in her determined march.

"You saw Joaquin and his boys, didn't you? Once they find out we've split up, you won't make it half a day on your own before getting picked up!"

"_I'll manage,_" She repeated with enough venom in her tone that would've made a lesser man flinch.

For a moment there was only the sound of dead leaves crunching beneath Elsa's boots as she continued to stomp away and leave her guide behind, not even caring that she was probably going in the wrong direction. She would figure the correct way back to Arendelle later, when she was miles away from Logan Massett.

The dark-haired male attempted to say something to her a few times, but each ploy to make her stop and come back to him fell short as he gradually realized whatever excuses he tried to use to manipulate her again, wouldn't work. Not this time. He had been caught. She heard him curse under his breath as she moved further and further away. She didn't doubt the only reason he even bothered trying to pacify her was because he couldn't handle watching a huge pay day like herself just walk away from him without a fight.

"Okay, yes! I was a bandit!" He finally called out, making Elsa halt in her angry stride at his confession. "_Was_ one. I _was _a bandit. Past tense. I'm not anymore."

The queen turned her head to look over her shoulder with a sideway glance, signifying she was all ears but also ready to continue on if she didn't like what she was hearing, which was a high possibility. Logan did his best to appear real and earnest.

"I used to be a part of Dag's crew, but that was years ago. I haven't had contact with him or his followers since then. In fact, that was the first night in years that I even set foot in that town. Our parting was anything but sweetly sorrowful and I've never wanted to relive the good ol' days. I had no idea what Dag was doing until Tobias came to me that night in the tavern. I had no idea about his raid on your kingdom, let alone had any part in it, and I have no idea why he took you. Honest."

He sounded sincere enough, but the queen wasn't so eager to just take him at face value. She had never been foolish enough to do that. Not before tonight, and certainly not after.

Elsa took a few steps forward, slowly making her way back towards Logan as she gave him a piercing stare - the royal stare. The stare her father used to use on her and Anna whenever they did something wrong and tried to fib their way out of trouble. The stare she herself often employed when she was negotiating treaties with Arendelle's more morally ambiguous trading partners, making certain that her hardworking citizens weren't robbed of their livelihoods by greedy foreigners. The stare that weeded out lies and sought out the truth.

"And you didn't think to mention this to me before now, because...?"

"I didn't think it was relevant," He said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

Elsa balked at him, her jaw hung open like a fish out of water, gasping air it couldn't breathe.

"You didn't think it was _relevant!?_" She practically screeched. For the love of God, his constant misplaced nonchalance made her want to tear her hair out sometimes! Did nothing truly motivate him? "You do know what relevant means, right? How could _that_ not be relevant?"

He held up his hands again disarmingly, trying not to wince at the scratchy edge Elsa's voice had taken on with her shrill yelling. "Look, it's no big deal-"

She opened her mouth to snap at him again, but he raised a hand to cut her off.

"I'm being serious. I figured if we stayed ahead of the curve and avoided a direct confrontation with Dag, then it wouldn't have mattered if I was an ex-bandit, so long as I got you back to Arendelle in one piece like we agreed upon. We could've parted ways and you would never have known."

She scowled at him, not at all impressed by his attempts to reassure her. Sure, his words sounded honeyed enough, but that didn't change the fact that he thought he could get away with lying to her. He didn't think she was smart or observant enough to figure it out. He was wrong. Granted, it did take her a while, but that did nothing to soothe her anger.

"Oh, so that's what you were thinking, was it?" She asked with a falsely sweetened tone. "You thought you could just sweep this under the rug and I would've never have known that you were once a part of that horrible man's gang?"

"Yes-"

She ignored him and pressed on with her rant, taking one step forward each time she drove another point home. "That I would've never have known that, once upon a time, you actually took _orders_ from him, like the rest of his dogs? That you used to join in on innocent kingdom raids like the one on mine?"

"Not necessarily, but yeah-"

She was right in front of him now, poking him sharply in the chest with her finger. "That I was right to label you as a two-faced thug who lies and cheats to get what he wants and doesn't care who he steps on, or the lives he ruins in the process?"

"Hey now, let's not add hurt feelings to this-"

"That you _lied_ to me?" She demanded, finally getting to the crux of the matter.

There was a pause as Logan's eyes rolled up towards the sky awkwardly and he picked his brain for something to say. Admittedly, he wasn't used to getting so rightly caught in a lie where he couldn't just lie some more to get himself out of trouble. She had caught him red-handed. The least he could do was be a man and own up to it.

"Well, if you want to phrase it all like that, then sure. I'm all that and more," He finally replied, trying not to laugh at Elsa's furious, pinched up expression - knowing any sign of mirth at this particular moment might earn him a small fist to the face. "But I wouldn't be too generous with the "L" word if I were you. You haven't exactly been Miss Forthcoming either, honey. I just did what I thought was best for our...unique situation. It might not have been the most honest approach, but at least it got you on the right track back home. If nothing else, you can give me that."

Elsa scoffed loudly in disbelief, utterly appalled that this insane man honestly believed they were still on an equal playing field - that his dishonesty wasn't any worse than hers just because she had been caught long before he had. All dishonesty was bad, but at least hers didn't involve being a former member of a bloodthirsty bandit gang. The same bloodthirsty gang that was the sole reason they were in this ridiculous situation in the first place!

"What _I_ lied about and what _you_ lied about are two, _totally_ different things! I only told a few little white lies that had nothing to do with the matter at hand, but you had to be Mr. "Job Security" and make an issue out of nothing, leaving me no choice but to lie!"

"Yeah, I see what you mean, but I, technically, didn't lie about anything at all," He argued just a tad bit sheepishly.

She gaped at him. Technically? He wanted to talk technically now? "_What? _Yes you _did_-"

"I never said I was, or wasn't, a bandit," He pointed out. "I admitted that I knew the gang, but never, at any point, did the subject of me being one of them come up between us. You assumed everything else yourself. Don't get mad at me just because something got lost in the translation."

Elsa felt another angry rant build up in her throat, but it sank back down when she realized it was all pointless. In Logan's eyes, this wasn't his fault. There was no arguing with someone who could never see themselves in the wrong. She knew that from personal experience.

With the last of her fight abandoning her, Elsa let out a tired, defeated sigh. She shook her head slowly and looked up at him with an almost regretful stare, which Logan was thrown slightly off guard by.

"Don't try to justify yourself like this," She said, her tone much softer now. "You know what you did was wrong. You know you should've told me. Don't try to turn this around and make it my fault when we both know it isn't. It won't work. I trusted you. Maybe not fully, and maybe only because I had no other option, but I trusted you enough to let you bring me back to Arendelle. You might not be a bandit anymore, but you're still just as bad as they are. I hope you know that."

She ignored how he looked at her with something akin to hurt on his face.

It might be stupid of her to try and finish this journey alone, but somehow she always knew it would come to this eventually. The foundation that her and Logan's agreement was based upon had been shaky and unstable from the start. It was only ever a matter of time before something caused it all to come tumbling down around them.

"Thank you for getting me this far, Mr. Massett, but I can't travel with you anymore. Goodbye."

She turned her back to him once again with an air of finality.

"Hold up a second," He moved forward to follow with a hand held out to her.

He couldn't help but feel a little pleased when the blonde woman stopped yet again to listen. Things weren't as far gone as she wanted him to think. There was still a chance to salvage something useful between them.

"Look, I know I screwed up, and I know you trust me about as far as you can throw me right now, and I understand that, I really do, but just stop and think about things for a moment. Do you really believe that you'll be able to make it back to Arendelle alone? I'm not trying to patronize you. I'm being completely serious right now. Even if you're able to get useful directions from some random townie or drifter, how are you going to defend yourself against Dag and his gang? Huh? Answer me that one question and I'll leave right now and never bother you again."

Another silence followed as he waited. She hadn't turned back around to face him, but Logan could practically hear the gears grinding in her head. She knew he was right, but she was still trying to think of alternatives that didn't include his help. He would've smirked approvingly at her tenacity if he wasn't always the one on the receiving end of it.

When she finally realized there was no other way and her shoulders sagged slightly in defeat, Logan moved in for the kill (so to speak). He walked forward until there was only two feet between them. He thought about putting his hands on her shoulders so he could turn her around and look her in the eyes when he spoke to her, but decided against it at the last second. That was way too forward for them. He didn't want to spook her.

"I want to make this right. Tell me how I can make this right."

She turned her head and looked up at him with a look that was half suspicious, and half confused. "Why are you trying so hard? I can't be the only person around offering a job that pays."

"True, but the money's only half of it. I want to help you," He replied, surprising both Elsa and himself when he realized he was telling the truth.

Though he wouldn't admit it out loud, he was impressed by Elsa's loyalty to her ruler. He wasn't _moved_ by it, of course, but he was feeling something pretty damn close to it, which was a first. If Logan had a friendship half as good as the one Elsa had with Princess Anna, or if he was half as committed to another person's health and safety other than his own, then maybe he wouldn't come off as such an asshole most of the time.

And as mushy and sentimental as it might sound, the small part inside of him that still believed he could be a good guy wanted to reunite the two women. If only to prove that he could, indeed, still be a good guy given the right circumstances.

The innocent fantasy must've shown itself in his expression because it made Elsa's distrustful one soften up, just a little bit. More than enough for Logan to guess what she was going to say next.

"Fine," She sighed with exasperated defeat before fixing him with a glare and pointing a warning finger up at him. "But I want to know the whole story."

He gave her a nod. "Done."

"And I mean the _whole_ story."

"Alright, I'll tell you the _whole_ story soon enough. Just...not out here."

Elsa crossed her arms under her chest with a quiet huff, but allowed Logan to steer her back to town with a guiding hand on her lower back.

"And don't try to be sneaky and cut corners, or otherwise next time I won't stop," She felt inclined to warn him. "You made a big, flashy claim about how you won't do business with people who lie to you. Now it's time to practice what you preach, hypocrite."

"Ooh, aren't you scary," Logan remarked dryly. "You got me shaking in my boots."

Elsa let the reappearance of his bad attitude slide as they returned to the market.

The stand merchants who had witnessed Elsa's little escape stunt looked in their direction with prying eyes when she and Logan resurfaced from the forest. She willfully avoided their stares by looking ahead. Some were suspicious of Logan, questioning his motives towards a young maiden like Elsa who had literally just fled from his company minutes before, while others were judgmental of her, making the queen feel as though they had been caught _in flagrante delicto_. She couldn't deny that from an outsider's perspective, their situation could certainly be twisted in that way.

Regardless, the queen kept her eyes forward as Logan led them further into town.

* * *

**(IMPORTANT) AN: People have been leaving reviews asking for more frequent updates, which is fine, I don't mind people asking questions. However, I'm afraid to report that because of how long my chapters are (8,000-11,000 words, give or take), it takes me about a month to plan, write, self-edit, and beta-edit each chapter (factoring in the inconveniences of real life). **

**To remedy this, I'm going to try taking all the planned chapters I have in my "Bring Me Home" outline, and basically cutting the events of them in half. This would cut down the chapter word count to about 4,000 - 5,000 words per chapter (give or take), which would cut everything else down, making it easier for me to doll out chapters more frequently.**

**Be warned, I tend to ramble and get a little carried away with plot and internal character development in my writing, so "shorter-but-sooner" might sometimes also mean "wordy-and-boring", if we hit a chapter where action needs to take a backseat to important plot points. I'll try to keep things interesting though.**

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	9. Inappropriate Dining Conversations

**AN: Special thanks to everybody who reviewed last chapter. I greatly appreciate it! ****I posted a couple of these chapters on my Ao3 account for promotional purposes, in hopes of collecting more readers and reviews, so if you found this story on Ao3, welcome to my FanFiction account! I operate mainly on this account so I recommend following the story here for more frequent updates. Let me know if I have any readers out there who came from ****Archive of Our Own!**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (9/18/16)**_

**Warning: Some adult language. Nothing too bad, though.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or it's characters.**

* * *

Elsa's nose twisted up in disgust as she took in the sight of yet another tavern.

It wasn't much different from the one she had met Logan in, but she figured that once you've been inside one shady tavern, you've been in them all. People didn't come for the fancy decor and lively atmosphere, after all. The large stack of ale barrels in the farthest left corner was the main attraction.

The tavern was haggard from years of wear and tear, with floorboards that creaked and a leaky roof, a small dining area with an unappealing menu and mediocre food, a rowdy crowd that smoked too much and yelled too loud, and bartenders and waitresses who all had that tired look on their faces. It was neither original, nor welcoming, but as long as the alcohol kept flowing there would always be eager customers waiting for a seat at the bar where they could drink themselves into oblivion. Elsa couldn't imagine anyone putting up with such a rundown eyesore otherwise. Even the lowest of the low had to have some standards.

Logan ushered her towards an empty table in the dining section of the tavern, not even lingering by the door to survey their new surroundings. He must have been aiming for an inconspicuous arrival. Not that she was trying to be vain or anything, but Elsa did turn quite a few heads whenever she entered establishments like these. It was an unsettling piece of knowledge she had picked up only recently and could have gone her whole life without ever knowing. It was just one of the perks of traveling with someone just as suspicious as a seedy street vendor, or a jonesing gambling addict facing debt.

When they reached their table, they shed their cloak and jacket. Logan pulled out Elsa's chair first and waited for her to sit down before moving around the table and pulling out his. The queen raised a brow at the surprisingly polite gesture and Logan just shrugged his shoulders. Her expression relaxed again as she shifted in her seat, sitting up straight with her hands resting in her lap out of unconscious habit while Logan leaned slouched over the table with his arms folded on top of each other. He tapped his fingers against the wooden tabletop in a fast, unfamiliar beat as he glanced idly around the room.

"So?" She looked at him expectantly. "Are you going to explain yourself?"

"Later," he replied, his eyes still scanning the crowd around them.

She glared at him, "But you-"

His fingers stopped moving and he leaned back in his seat, lodging a boot against the edge of the table and balancing on the back two legs of his chair. "Hey, cut me some slack. It's a very long story and I'd rather talk about it in private. Right now, I'm hungry and would like to get something decent to eat before I have to pour my heart and soul out to a woman I barely know."

Elsa narrowed her eyes at him, but decided not to pry further because he brought up a good point. She was willing to agree that now wasn't the time or place for such a discussion. The level of noise in the tavern was more than just a calm hum. She was surprised they didn't have to yell over the other patrons just to hear each other.

His reluctance to tell her was worrying, though.

Even when they were having a conversation about something he seemed to enjoy talking about, Logan always affected a lazy, almost lethargic drawl, as if everything and everybody around him was too dull and tiresome to even forge a small semblance of personal interest for. But this was something else entirely. He looked genuinely conflicted in the face of this new roadblock in their journey together. He hid it well. He still held himself the same as ever; cocky and nonchalant. However, there was a small giveaway in the way his eyes kept shifting to look everywhere except at Elsa while his fingers tapped a restless song against his propped up knee. She didn't know Logan to be much of fidgeter.

The queen had to admit, it was almost refreshing to see him like that. For the first time since meeting him, Logan actually looked bothered by something. Calm, collected and just a tad bit annoyed was how she had come to see him. He was still an enigma to her in a lot of ways. He had a weird way of telling Elsa things about himself without actually telling her anything at all, like some confusing magic trick that she never saw coming, no matter how many times she had seen it before. Once she managed to get him to answer one of her questions, the answer usually brought about more. She really wished she could get straight, satisfying answers from him just as easily as he seemed to connive them from her.

It was almost pointless to think about it further at this point, though. She could barely think about anything right now, not with the loud cheering and the breaking of glass that emanated from a group of sailors on the other side of the room. Elsa's nose twisted up again as she looked over her shoulder at the rowdy bunch. They looked like they were having a good time, celebrating the apparent engagement of one of their fellow mates. The queen felt both envy and fondness towards the festivities, secretly glad that at least _somebody's_ life was still on track, but mostly she wished they would take it down a notch before she got a headache. The smell of tobacco and ale was bad enough.

She turned back around to face Logan who was watching her with a look of boredom. She cocked a slim eyebrow at him and his choice of dining establishments. "You complain about not having a decent meal in days and you go and pick another gross tavern? This place is disgusting and covered in filth, I can't imagine their food being any better."

"What can I say? It's a familiar atmosphere for me. Men like things simple," he replied flippantly with another shrug, ignoring the scoff it pulled from Elsa. "And besides, we're running low on funds. That market stop we did before you decided to go on your midnight run wasn't exactly cheap."

She would imagine so, considering he must have shelled out a pretty penny for that extra dagger he didn't need. She wondered what he had done with it, if he did indeed purchase it before coming after her. The urge to ask him presented itself, but before she could speak, a barmaid approached their table and the conversation dropped.

The young, dark-haired woman greeted them with a friendly smile as she welcomed them to so-and-so's tavern before asking them what they wanted to drink. While Logan gave her his request, Elsa took in the maid, observing her as she smiled down at the queen's companion with a cute smile that seemed a little too flashy to be a gesture she gave everyone she served. She seemed nice and pretty enough, with wavy brown hair, brown eyes and a slightly plump, but attractive face. Elsa had to wonder how she could stand working in a place like this with a bunch of perverted men staring at the ample cleavage she had on display quite brazenly with the cut of her blouse and tight corset. Every inch of skin below Elsa's collarbone was covered with cloth and she still felt slimy from the patrons' stares.

She watched as Logan and the barmaid spoke to each other, exchanging a bit of small talk that could have easily been mistaken as flirting. Logan made a few comments in that dry, sarcastic way of his while flashing her a charming smirk that seemed vastly different from all the smirks he had given Elsa. The waitress giggled (actually _giggled_) at his words and reached out to smack his shoulder when he said something particularly witty and scandalous. The queen wanted to gag at the display.

Fortunately, the woman finally remembered she also had to take Elsa's order. Her attitude towards the queen wasn't nearly as "friendly" as it was towards Logan. It wasn't rude, just less enthusiastic. She could have at least pretended for professional behavior's sake, but Elsa doubted neither of them received that. She asked for a cup of tea and the barmaid nodded while making little eye contact. When she came back with their drinks, she made a show of leaning over to place them on the table, trying to draw attention to her chest. Elsa couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes as a small blush colored her cheeks.

Surprisingly, Logan didn't take the bait. He only smiled at her again before giving her their food orders while his gaze stayed at eye level. The barmaid seemed a little perturbed that he hadn't looked where she obviously wanted him to, but she didn't do anything about it. She took their orders and left. He wasn't completely impervious to the woman's looks, though. Elsa made an exasperated click of her tongue and rolled her eyes again when Logan looked over his shoulder and watched the woman sashay away with a deliberate sway of her hips. The noise brought his gaze back to her.

"What?"

She gave him a dry look. "Could that have been any more obvious?"

He shrugged his shoulders again, not at all embarrassed that he was caught staring when he realized what she meant. Her expression wasn't disapproving, but it wasn't impressed either. Not that he really cared. He wasn't about to rewrite his entire biology just because some castle-dweller looked at him funny for doing something that was almost as instinctual to him as breathing.

"She seemed pretty confident," Elsa remarked, looking down at the questionable liquid in her cup as she swished it around. "Flirting like that with a man who's sitting at a table with another woman."

"I suppose it was, but it's not like we're an item or anything."

Her nose twisted up at the thought. "I know that, but she doesn't. That's got to be breaking some kind of common decency rule, doesn't it?

"Common decency? I wouldn't know."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You flirted back. Why? Were you trying to make something happen? Normally, I wouldn't care, but given the circumstances I would seriously have to object to your timing. I'm not going to sit here by myself while you and some random barmaid go off and-and...do things."

"_Do things_?" he echoed with a laugh. "What are you, nine? Can you be a little more specific? I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you mean."

"You know what I mean!" she snapped, her cheeks turning pink. He was not going to make her say it out loud.

He laughed, cutting her off before she could embarrass herself further. "No, of course I wasn't trying to make something happen. She wanted to flirt with me and I obliged."

"Why?"

"Because flirting is fun, Sugar. It doesn't always have to mean something. Although, I don't know why I expected you to understand that."

She blinked at him, affronted. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing bad," he assured, rather unconvincing. "You just don't seem like the type of person who does casual flirting. Servants to the royal family have to have moral restrictions, right? Plus, you're a little uptight. You don't exactly ooze fun and spontaneity."

He was right, or at least in part, but Elsa was still offended. It always rubbed her the wrong way whenever she heard the same thing from Anna. Of course her sister never said it in the offhanded way that Logan did, but it still evoked the same feelings of annoyance and inadequacy. Even if it was perfectly reasonable for Elsa to act poised all the time because of her status, she still felt annoyed when the word "uptight" was used. It wasn't her fault. There weren't that many people out there who could understand what it was like to deal with the high expectations that she had to deal with. Not even Anna fully understood, not really.

Despite all that though, Elsa could be very fun. She could be just as fun as Anna if given enough spare time and freedom. Her ice powers always brought about the most epic snowball fights Arendelle had ever seen. Not a day goes by where Elsa doesn't wish she could blow off her entire schedule and join in on Anna's many shenanigans around the kingdom. She just had responsibilities that she needed to put first. She should not have reacted to Logan's badgering, but she found herself responding anyways with the need to defend herself.

"I am not uptight. Just because I don't skip around and sing about sunshine and rainbows, or get drunk in a pub and flirt with every halfway decent-looking stranger I come across, doesn't make me uptight. It makes me sensible. And if the mood suits me, I can be just as fun and spontaneous as anyone in this rathole, including _you_."

Logan let out another laugh, leaning back in his chair again. "And thank you for just proving my point. Don't you ever relax?"

Elsa opened her mouth to argue further, but stopped short when she realized he was right. She had walked straight into that one. She might have made an excellent point with her words, but her tone and sour expression only encouraged Logan's comment. Any non-uptight person would have just let the comment go, or at least said their piece in a voice that didn't suggest she wanted to chuck a chair at his head. She looked away from him, cursing herself as she bit her lip to keep from voicing the abuse out loud. An awkward silence fell over their table as Logan's teasing question went unanswered and Elsa almost visibly retreated from the conversation.

The man's smirk dropped when he realized he had hit a raw nerve. She cleared her throat against her unease and looked off to the side. The silence continued as the two looked everywhere except at each other. It stayed like that until Logan opened his mouth again, drawing Elsa's attention back towards him. He made a noise, sounding as if he was going to say something but either decided not to at the last second, or he wasn't quite sure how to say it. An apology maybe? Wouldn't that be something.

"I guess you're right about that on some level," she spoke up, breaking the silence for him. "I always try to be calm and in control, just like my parents raised me to be. I try to be open and honest with Anna because she deserves that from me, but there's always been this volatile side of me that I can't always keep locked behind closed doors."

The queen looked at her gloved hands resting in her lap.

"Even now, I'm afraid I'll cause something bad to happen. I'm afraid I'll cause damage I won't be able to fix."

At the sound of another plate breaking in the distance, whatever quiet trance their table had fallen under was broken as Elsa looked up from her lap and locked gazes with her guide. He was watching her with a look of idle assessment that held no criticism or emotion that might portray what he was thinking. His gaze was intense, though, unwavering and surprisingly bright under the soft, orange lighting of the tavern that highlighted the slivers of color in his irises that made his hazel eyes more amber than green. She felt her cheeks twinge with the heat of another blush when she remembered where she was and who she was speaking to.

"I'm sorry," she apologized with a dismissive wave and a small laugh for getting carried away. "This probably all sounds so silly to you. I'm sure you never have to deal with stupid things like that - things that only privileged girls like me whine about. The king and queen treated their servants well, as does Princess Anna. You're probably too busy searching for your next job so you can eat and have shelter and not worry about getting a knife stuck in your back. I can tell, you would never let someone inhibit you, tell you what you can and can't do, what you're capable of. You're like Anna that way. Bold and fearless."

Logan looked down at his own mug, feeling a little thrown and uncomfortable by the comment. He cleared his throat. "Don't worry about it. Sometimes being censored can't be helped. Circumstances may vary from person to person, but we all feel caged at some point in our lives. Some more than others. At least you're more self-aware than most people. You have your faults, just like we all do, but you're not ignorant about them."

"Sometimes I wish I were," she heard herself admitting out loud. "I would lead a much less complicated life. People could actually stand to be around me in a personal setting, rather than just a professional one. Only Anna and Kristoff know me well enough to be completely comfortable around me. Everyone else...they usually keep their distance, and I can't say I don't prefer that as well."

"It's like you said, you're complicated."

"I'm abnormal," she shot back. In her head, the names she called herself were much more derogatory. "Freak" and "monster" being the more prominent ones.

"Nothing wrong with that. In fact, a lot of men find that attractive," his tone took on a teasing note to help ease the tension, knowing the woman couldn't care less about what a bunch of mindless, testosterone-driven men thought of her. "Complexity means a woman's intelligent enough to actually do something about their problems. Instead of sitting around like bleating sheep, waiting for something to just happen."

"Yeah, attractive, right. Says the guy who was just talking about men and their need for simplicity," she said with a very unladylike snort. "Do _you_ find it attractive?"

"I find it very attractive," he replied matter-of-factly.

Out of anyone else's mouth, it would have sounded coy and flirtatious, but Logan said it in total seriousness, like he was stating a fact. She wasn't sure how to respond to that, so she didn't. Instead, she coughed awkwardly and averted her gaze from his, moving it along the rowdy atmosphere around them. Her eyes skimmed along the bar over Logan's right shoulder. For the most part she saw nothing of note, but when her gaze fell on someone that struck a cord of familiarity in her head, the queen did a double-take to make sure she wasn't imagining things.

Fear ignited in her chest as she spotted another member of the bandit gang sitting on one of the bar stools, but not just any member, it was her cell guard. It was the fat, drunken bandit who had been posted to guard Elsa's cell during her time spent as their prisoner. Her breath hitched in her throat and her eyes widened as she recognized the man's large shape, slumped over the counter of the bar with his head bent back as he poured another pitcher of ale down his gullet. He looked just as disgusting as she remembered; curly red hair that was practically dripping because it was so oily, unshaven face and a portly body sitting content in his own filth and soiled clothing.

Elsa had to stomp down on her own foot to keep from bolting out of the room, even though the bandit guard had his back turned towards their table. Memories of her time in captivity flashed inside her mind as her eyes flickered back on Logan who was staring blankly into the contents of his mug, lost in thought.

"Can we go please?" she asked, in the calmest tone she could manage.

Logan looked up from his drink. "Why? We just got here."

"I really think we should leave now," Elsa stressed, her eyes flickering back and forth between Logan and the bar. "Please?"

"No, I'm hungry."

"We've still got food in our bags."

"It's too cold out tonight."

"We've got our cloaks."

"The horses need to rest."

"We can walk along side them."

"I'm too comfortable right now. Ask me in an hour."

"Why are you being so stubborn about staying?" Elsa finally snapped. She would have slammed her fist on the table in frustration if she wasn't so sure she would freeze it and draw unwanted attention. "There's plenty of other taverns we can go to."

"Why are you being so stubborn about leaving?" He threw back at her. "What's wrong with this one?"

Elsa didn't reply as her eyes involuntarily shifted to the thug again. Before she could think of an excuse that didn't involve telling him about her embarrassing ordeal during captivity, Logan caught her look.

"Who do you keep looking at?" he asked, turning to look behind him, following her gaze.

"Nobody," she lied. Her heart dropped when Logan's eyes searched the bar and landed on her old cell guard. Something passed across his face, something that was part recognition and part something else that the queen couldn't identify. His shoulders stiffened for a split second at the sight of the bandit before going lax again. He exhaled through his nose.

"Friend of yours?" she asked, bitter.

"Nope," he replied, "but I know him."

"Can we go then? There could be more of them-"

"What did he do?" Logan suddenly asked, his head whipping back around to look at her.

She blinked at him, thrown at his sudden change in mood. "What?"

"Something happened, didn't it?" he said with a darkening expression. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing," she shook her head, letting her eyes drop back into her lap when she realized what he was asking her. "Nothing. He didn't do anything. He just said things."

"What _things_?"

"Use your imagination," she snapped at him. "I'm not going to repeat it. He said some very inappropriate things to me while I was their prisoner. Almost every night, he would come down into the dungeon and sit near my cell and just talk. He'd talk for hours, saying the most disgusting things I have ever heard in my life. There was nothing I could do about it, so I just had to try and block him out."

"Did he ever try anything?"

Elsa looked off to the side, unable to look Logan in the eye as a misplaced sense of shame washed over her. The very thought of the bandit guard made her feel cold and unclean. It took a lot not to wrap her arms around herself for comfort. Maybe this was her punishment for being so hypercritical towards Logan about his past when her's wasn't so wholesome either.

"Yes, twice," she admitted, not seeing much point in adding this to her list of deceit, too. "The first time he was posted as my guard, he reached through my cell's bars and tried to grab my ankle, but the leader caught him and reprimanded him for it. Said, 'Damaged goods don't turn a profit'. Heartless bastard."

Logan raised an eyebrow at her choice of words, having never heard her swear before, but said nothing.

"The second time was the night I escaped. I guess he forgot about the leader's warning, or was just too drunk to care. He tried to unlock my cell door. He got sick and passed out before he could unlock it and I was able to get out. We were alone down there. If he hadn't passed out...then he would've...and nobody would've been around to stop him. He would've..."

"You're right. He would've," Logan agreed with very little emotion. "Not only do I know him, I know what he's capable of, and let's just say you were really lucky that night if he actually drank enough to pass out, especially with his tolerance."

His ominous words made the queen shudder with disgust.

"It's best not to think about it too much. You got out and that's the important thing," he reminded her, his eyes softening. "Anything else will just upset you."

Forgetting all about it. Sounded like a great plan.

"So can we leave?" Elsa asked again.

"From the looks of it, he's so drunk he probably couldn't tell his ass from a hole in the ground," he chuckled before looking back at Elsa, "but yeah, we can leave."

"Really?"

"Do you really think I'm going to make you sit in a room with that guy after what you told me?" he asked, backing his chair out and reaching for his coat. "I know I can be a jerk sometimes, but I'd like to think I'm nicer than that."

Elsa hesitated for a moment, looking up at him in surprise before standing up from the table. She grabbed her cloak and pulled it on her shoulders as she followed Logan out of the tavern. There weren't any signs of more bandits lurking around, but the two kept their heads down anyways.

True to form, it was cold out that night. The wind must have picked up while they were in the tavern because now there was a strong draft blowing in over the town. Of course, Elsa didn't feel the sensation of the bitter weather snipping the exposed skin of her face, but she did have to pull up her hood and clutch her cloak tighter to keep her hair and clothes from becoming scattered by a forceful gust. She stepped out into the street first with Logan following close behind. He flipped up the collar of his coat and tied his scarf around his neck for protection against the cold. It wasn't unbearable outside. The lack of snow and ice allowed the roads to remain accessible, but the cold had driven most of the townsfolk to seek shelter, leaving the streets almost barren.

Once they were both outside, Elsa made to cross the road and head for the little inn they had passed earlier when they first arrived in town. Logan reached out and grabbed one of her elbows, making her stop.

"Hold up," he said. "I need you to wait here for a minute."

"Where are you going?"

"Just wait here, I forgot something in the tavern," he told her, gesturing behind them with his thumb.

"But-"

"I won't be gone long," he assured her as he turned to go back inside. "If I'm not back in ten minutes, head for the inn. Keep your hood up and don't stop for anything."

Logan didn't wait for her to argue, knowing she would either refuse to let him go or demand she go with him, and neither were an option. He stepped back into the muggy atmosphere of the tavern, closing the door firmly behind him and causing a few heads to perk up at the sound of the latch clicking. One look at the obtrusive stance Logan projected in the doorway (as opposed to the silent one they saw him leave with), they turned back to their own business. The young man wasn't looking for trouble, but the determination on his face told everyone that he had come back inside for a reason.

He walked towards the bar, noting that the bandit guard had left. He looked at the bartender, who was watching Logan's approach with a wary glare. He held up a disarming hand to show the bartender he wasn't a threat and simply nodded his head at the empty seat in a silent question. The bartender relaxed a little and jutted a thumb over his shoulder towards the back door of the tavern. Logan gave him a small salute of gratitude and made his way towards the door, ending their wordless conversation.

The back door led to a long alleyway that was made up of the tavern and an unmarked brick building, lined with clusters of garbage and shrouded in shadows except for the scarce lighting from the moon above. Logan looked down the alley, easily picking out the bulky shape of the bandit guard on his right. He was leaning heavy against the wall of the brick building with one arm propped up to hold his weight. He was doubled over, most likely fighting the wave of nausea brought on by his recent binge.

Logan strode purposely towards the staggering man with his hands in his pocket. When he was close enough, he let out a whistle through his teeth.

"Hey, big guy!"

The bandit guard turned and blinked sluggishly at the approaching figure. His fat face curled up in drunken concentration as he tried to look through the poor lighting. When recognition set in, his eyes widened.

"Logan? Son of a bitch, is that you? You're alive?"

"More or less," he replied as he drew close enough. Without preamble, he pulled back his arm and delivered a brutal punch to the drunk's face, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing down the alley. The bandit stumbled back and lost his balance, crashing against the cobblestone with a groan as he reached up to clutch his now broken nose. Logan looked down at him. "How ya been these days, Merrick?"

"What the hell man!" the bandit yelled, his voice muffled by his hand as he rolled around on the ground, blood gushing down his chin and on to his shirt. "I think you broke my nose, you prick!"

"Don't pretend you don't deserve it."

Merrick was the biggest waste of space to ever walk the earth. It was a miracle Dag kept him around this long. He was more of a liability than an asset, always had been. He had many vices that he always fell victim to with very little effort on temptation's part, but his most addictive one was drinking. He was a heavy drinker. It didn't matter what kind it was; whiskey, scotch, ale, brandy, wine - as long as it made him dull and stupid to the world around him, they were all his poison. He had been built and fit once upon a time, long before Logan was a bandit, but years of looking for a solution at the bottom of a bottle made him soft and round, in every sense of the word.

It wasn't even like he had problems to block out, or sorrows to drown like most men with drinking habits. He was just an impulsive pig incapable of thinking more than six hours ahead at one time. Some people never learn and he was one of them. His left hand only had two fingers on it, his pinky and ring finger having been blown off years ago when the idiot thought it was a good idea to handle explosive material while buzzed. He was lucky he hadn't lost his entire arm, considering it had been dynamite. Of course seeing him now, it was obvious he hadn't learned a goddamn thing since then.

Logan stared down at the blubbering lump of fat on the ground with a look of barely masked disgust as he stepped closer and prodded the drunk bandit with the toe of his boot.

"Why does Dag want the girl?"

"What girl?" he asked around a wet sniffle, dabbing at his still bleeding nose.

Logan kicked him in the ribs, pulling a winded grunt from him. "Don't give me that bullshit, you know who I'm talking about!"

"I don't know, man," Merrick whined when he finally got his breath back. "We snatched the bitch from some fancy party. I was drunk off my ass before we even got there."

"You're always drunk off your ass. You must know something. You guarded her cell."

"I just do what the boss tells me. Like we all do."

"Stop lying to me before I get _really_ upset," Logan snapped.

"I told you I don't know, Dag tells me nothin' anymore! I'm not even part of the gang! I took off when I woke up and realized she was gone. It's my fault she got away, he would've killed me if I stayed!"

It made sense and Logan believed him. He cursed to himself when he realized Merrick was another dead end. He had hoped interrogating the tub of lard would bring about some useful information and possibly answer some of the questions he still had surrounding Elsa's situation, but it was obvious he wasn't going to get any of that from Merrick. He was wasting his time here.

"We done?" the bandit guard asked.

"No, we're not done," Logan growled, reaching down to twist his fingers into the collar of Merrick's shirt. With a lot of effort, he hauled him up and threw him against the brick wall. "I heard you still can't keep your hands to yourself. Remember what happened the last time I caught you trying to pull that crap? Do you remember what I said?"

Merrick paled at the memory and Logan couldn't help but feel a satisfied twinge in his chest at the look of fear on his face. With a grunt, he pulled the bandit to the side and shoved him to the ground as hard as he could. He stood over the bandit like a looming undertaker, knowing the shadows of the alley blended well with his dark hair and clothing, making him look even more intimidating.

"Told you I'd cut off what's left of your fingers and feed them to you, didn't I? I'm a little pressed for time, though. I got someone on standby and it's rude to keep a lady waiting. I guess we'll just have to settle for this."

He brought his boot down and stomped on the chubby fingers of Merrick's intact hand, inciting a cacophony of loud cracks and a yell from the bandit. Logan let him feel the pain of his broken hand for a few seconds as punishment for being the gross pervert that he was, twisting his foot to scrape the hand harder against the ground, but he soon released it and delivered a sharp kick to Merrick's temple, knocking him out cold so the sound of his screams wouldn't draw anyone's attention.

There wasn't any threat of Merrick gaining consciousness and running off to tell Dag about what happened. Even if the bandit leader was pleased to hear that Elsa had been sighted again, he still would have had Merrick killed for losing the woman in the first place. There was no mistake about that. Apparently his drinking hadn't managed to kill all of his brain cells quite yet. He knew enough to get the hell out of dodge before Dag had a chance to unleash his wrath on him. The worst that could happen was that Merrick would gain consciousness the next morning and report Logan to the town constable, but that was very unlikely since nobody would shed tears over a roughed up drunk, and even if that wasn't the case, he and Elsa would be long gone by then so it hardly mattered either way.

With nothing else to gain from their encounter, Logan rolled Merrick on to his side with his boot so the bandit wouldn't choke on his own vomit before reaching into his pockets. He took whatever money Merrick had on him and left him on the ground of the alleyway.

~O~

Elsa was still waiting when Logan came around from the side of the tavern.

She gave him a suspicious look, wondering what he was doing behind the tavern. Her mind flashed to the barmaid he had shamelessly been flirting with, but because she may or may not have peeked into the tavern window to make sure the other woman wasn't the thing Logan "forgot", she knew he must have been back there for another reason.

He walked towards her. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his coat while his brow was furrowed and his mouth was set in a line. Dark hair fell over into his eyes, the tips brushing against his eye lashes as the wind tossed the strands. Two woman walked past him, both giggling to each other and giving the male looks as they continued on their late evening stroll. One looked like she wanted to say something to him, proposition him for god knows what, but he ignored both of them, keeping his gaze on Elsa as he made his way back to her.

It was a purely innocent move; him simply too busy with a job and not wanting to partake any random woman's "company" for the night, letting his closed off body language reject any unwanted advances, but Elsa felt a strange spark of satisfaction at his brush off. It might have just been a instinctual response, or maybe it was just the spoiled little princess still left inside her from early childhood, but for a second she liked the fact that he was coming back to her, and not anyone else who had shown their interest in him that night. It was that prideful, selfish feeling you got when you realized you had something other people wanted and you didn't have to share it. It was an unexplained feeling, something that she never felt towards a living person before. She squirreled it away, pushing it deep down where she didn't have to acknowledge it. She chalked it up to spending too much time in Logan's company.

"What took you so long?" she asked when he came close enough. "Why are you coming from back there?"

"Don't worry about it," he replied, shaking his head. She opened her mouth to question him further, but he cut her off. "Here, before I forget. I got you this."

Elsa watched as he reached down into the side of his boot and pulled out something that gleamed in the moonlight. He presented it to her and the queen blinked when she saw that it was the ornate dagger from the marketplace.

"I figured since things might get a little dicey from here, you should have something to protect yourself with. It's small and easy to handle, even for someone who has never used a knife before."

Elsa tentatively reached out and took the dagger from him, holding it across both palms and marveling at its light, but solid weight. The cool metal of the dagger seemed to permeate the fabric of her gloves, making her shiver with something that had nothing to do with the cold. She was fascinated by the feel of it in her hands, turning it over in silent exploration but still keeping it at a safe distance from her body as if she was afraid it would jump up and stab her all on its own. She looked back up at Logan who was watching her. She knew she probably looked like a dumbstruck fool, staring at him like that. She had a hard time wrapping her head around the idea that he had gotten this for her.

"You won't exactly be able to sword fight with this thing, but it should be enough to get you out of trouble if something happens."

"I uh-um..." she stumbled out eloquently, pulling a chuckle from her guide.

"Come on, Sugar," he said, reaching an arm around her and placing his hand on her lower back. He steered them in the direction of the town inn. "I made you a promise. It's time to tell you the whole story behind your oh-so charming and gracious escort."

Elsa would have rolled her eyes at him if she wasn't still stunned by the dagger in her hands.

* * *

**AN: Yeah, yeah, I know, we didn't get to read Logan's backstory in this chapter. I'm sorry, I just really wanted to do a chapter like this ever since I started this story and it seemed like a good opportunity. I know a lot of you were looking forward to having some of your questions answered, but this was a pretty quick update. The quickest I've ever done probably. ****And I love how a lot of you pointed out how hypercritical Elsa was of Logan last chapter. Some of you are actually defending my OC and that's amazing! I guess I'm doing a pretty good job with him so far if he's invoking that kind of response.**

**In my first outline, I put in a possible scene where Elsa, sick of Logan's "good-girl" teasing, drinks alcohol to prove him wrong and ends up getting a little loose, but I didn't think I could get away with doing that without her accidentally exposing her powers since I have a headcanon that says Elsa's a fun drunk. So I had to scrap the idea because I have something better planned for the revelation of Elsa's powers. Plus, Logan wouldn't leave a wasted Elsa alone in front of a bar while he beats up bandits. Not safe.**

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	10. Web of Thieves

**AN: Special thanks to everybody who reviewed last chapter. ****Thanks for the continued support! It's greatly appreciated!**

**I'm grateful for all the reviews I get, all the favorites, and all the follows. When I first started this story, I was nervous it wouldn't catch on at all. I wouldn't have dreamed about it when I posted the first chapter, but now I'm kinda hoping I'll manage to snag me a place on the Frozen TV Tropes Fanfic recommendation list. I got on the Rise of the Guardians crossover one for my story "Winter Wonderland", but I want to see if I can do it again with the Frozen list. Wishful thinking probably, but you never know!**

**Warning: Violence. Nothing too graphic, but this chapter might be a little more mature than the others.**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (4/3/16)**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or its characters.**

* * *

After an embarrassing misunderstanding at the front counter while checking in, Elsa sought out the private washroom of the inn to clean up while Logan headed for their room, grateful to be free of that awkward situation.

The lady manning the front desk had been nice and welcoming towards the inn's late-night guests; a plump, grandmotherly type of woman. The kind you would expect to see running a quaint, little inn like that. However, as kind as she was to them, she seemed a little too forward for Elsa's tastes. She was friendly. The smile she gave them when they walked in was bright and cheerful, especially for someone stuck working the graveyard shift. There wasn't anything prominently off-putting about her that Elsa could pick up on during the course of a short, five minute exchange. She just seemed too quick to make assumptions of Elsa and Logan's...arrangement.

'_Honeymoon, eh? Well don't let me discourage you. Just make sure to leave a hat or something on the doorknob for housekeeping._'

It was light, teasing and as innocent as a comment involving _that_ particular subject could be, but it was still embarrassing. Elsa had blushed darker than she had ever blushed in her entire life while Logan let out a short laugh at the woman's cheeky boldness. The queen wasn't sure what that hat on the doorknob remark was supposed to mean, but the knowing wink the older woman gave them was more than enough for her to pick up on the racy nature of it.

In all honesty, Elsa couldn't really blame the woman for her inappropriate, and entirely _wrong_, comment. It wasn't hard to see how the innkeeper might have come to that conclusion. They were a pair of young adults requesting a room for the night, after all. At least she assumed they were married. It was a little more honorable than thinking they were two random strangers, looking to partake in a night of elicit debauchery. She was glad when the lady finally handed over their key. A little humiliated by the comment, Elsa turned away from the front desk and stalked off in a silent fume while mumbling something about finding the inn's washroom.

When she finally found the right door, she took her time washing her face and hands with warm water, happily wiggling her fingers when she was finally able to take her gloves off. The cool air of the washroom felt nice against the skin of her hands. The gloves might provide her with an extra layer of protection against her powers, but after almost three years of living glove-free without feeling self-conscious, she had forgotten how itchy and constricting glove fabric could get when you wear it constantly. She waited for as long as she could before slipping her gloves back on and leaving the washroom.

The floorboards of the inn creaked beneath her boots as she made her way through the narrow hallway. She stepped lightly towards her and Logan's room, feeling oddly conscientious towards the sleeping guests around her. When she reached their door, she slipped silently inside. Logan hadn't noticed her return yet. He was leaning over a small sink that was propped up in a far corner of their room, following Elsa's lead and washing the day's filth from his skin. He had been too distracted with splashing his face with handfuls of water and running his fingers through his hair to notice that Elsa had returned.

The queen halted in the doorway, staring wide-eyed as he stood completely shirtless across the room just as he dunked his head into the basin of water. He kept his head submerged for a few seconds before resurfacing with a gasp and shaking the droplets of water from his hair like a shaggy dog, causing the drops to fall on to his shoulders and run down his bare chest. His suspenders hung freely against the sides of his legs and his dirty shirt laid abandoned on the floor. The queen felt her stomach flip when she realized she should've knocked.

Elsa had seen shirtless men before on a few occasions (not many, mind you). Mostly down by the docks on those hot summer days when she would leave the stuffy atmosphere of her castle and stroll through the marketplace with her sister. They were big, burly sailors, with more hair on their chests than bare skin and covered in raunchy tattoos that they had collected throughout their many travels. She would see them at a distance, lounging on the decks, looking to cool down in the shade provided by the tall sails of their ships, but would quickly pull their shirts back on once they noticed her and Anna's approach, scrambling to make themselves look presentable in their sweaty and wrinkled clothing before respectfully greeting the queen and princess.

On those occasions, she didn't let her eyes linger, mostly because she didn't want them to. Her and Anna would just exchange stifled giggles and childishly exclaim "gross!" as soon as they were out of earshot like a couple of six-year-olds. And of course she had also seen Kristoff shirtless once or twice as well, but she never thought much of it because he was her sister's boyfriend and she only saw him in a platonic light - if not already a familial one. However, she did find it amusing that he thought he could get away with midnight snack runs in his underwear and not get caught by the queen who often stayed up late signing paperwork.

Kristoff was large and heavily built. He had to be because of his career field. His muscles were more prominent in his arms and broad shoulders, where he could easily use his brute strength to saw through frozen lakes and haul heavy ice blocks on to his back and carry them to market. Elsa always thought men stopped growing around the same age as women, but Kristoff only seemed to gain more muscle mass and an inch of height with every passing year. His stomach wasn't quite as defined as his upper body, though. It was softer and bit pudgy around the waist and belly with bits of baby fat he had never been able to shed. The never ending income of hearty meals provided to him by the castle kitchen staff didn't help much either. But the new wardrobe Anna had the royal tailor make for him was generously slimming, so it hardly mattered.

Anna once told Elsa that she thought he was self-conscious about it because whenever the princess caught him without his shirt on (which happened often because of Anna's lack of personal space and privacy), the ice harvester would blush and snap at her, holding up whatever article of clothing he had in his hands to cover himself. The princess had then set out to remedy this by pinching his sides and blowing raspberries at him when he was least expecting it.

With Logan, Elsa was only privy to his body's profile with the way the sink was situated in the room, but she could see nearly every muscle that made up his wiry physique. His muscle build was more evenly spaced throughout his torso and upper body, geared towards someone who was more accustomed to a variety of job fields, rather than just one like Kristoff. The arm that displayed his former bandit tattoo was facing her, giving her the full view of it for the first time. It stretched from the very edge of his neck, over his shoulder and then down all the way to his elbow in a series of woven black lines. The design seemed intricate and entirely deliberate by whomever etched it into his skin. She wondered if it was only meant to be an interesting design, a piece of art painted on human skin, or if the bandits' tattoos actually meant something.

She was aware she was staring openly at him, letting her eyes linger over his form, but she wasn't staring lecherously at him, ogling and drooling over his bare torso, or anything ridiculous like that. She just wasn't expecting to find him in such a state of undress. She would admit, though, it was...interesting to see him this way. There wasn't anything sordid about it. The way he leaned over the rim of the basin with his hands gripping the sides, his wet hair sticking to his skin as he stared into the cracked mirror above the basin with an unreadable expression - he gave off a sense of conflict and vulnerability. It was strange to see that coming from him. Baring witness to that, Elsa felt as if she was intruding on a private moment, but not for the reason she originally assumed.

She was at a loss of what to do. Her body shifted slightly, half turning to leave the room but freezing in mid-movement when she remembered she had nowhere to go. She thought about clearing her throat, making a noise to alert her companion, but she wasn't entirely sure she wanted him to know she was there. Surely this would make things awkward between them, she reasoned, but before she could think further on it, Logan sensed the new presence in the room. He turned his head to look at the door, spotting her standing in the doorway.

There was a lack of reaction from him. His expression was blank and passive where Elsa expected it to be surprised and angry.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed after she realized she had been caught, whirling around on her heel so her back was towards him. "I should've knocked."

"S'alright," he said as he reached over to grab a clean shirt from his pack. He pulled the shirt on over his head and rolled up the sleeves how he liked them. "You can look now. I'm decent."

She turned around slowly with her hands over her eyes as if she wasn't sure she believed him, making the man snort.

"Calm down. It wasn't like I was completely naked. I was still wearing pants."

Elsa ignored him, dropping her hands and shutting the door a little harder than necessary before throwing the latch.

"You can take the bed," Logan announced as he grabbed the extra pillow from said bed and tossed it on to the window bench of the room. He plopped down with a sigh, brushing off the incident like it never happened. Clearly the embarrassment was only on Elsa's part, which was understandable. She had seen shirtless men before, but she had never been inside the same room as one - _alone_. It was more than a little jarring.

"Thank you," Elsa said in a quiet voice as she draped her blue cloak over a nearby vanity chair.

With a covert glance towards Logan, she turned her back and looked down at her gloved hands. She gnawed on her bottom lip as she stared down at the bright blue fabric, debating whether she should take them off. It would look a little strange to wear gloves to bed, even for her. Logan would definitely start to suspect that there was a deeper purpose behind her gloves than just a need for comfort and emotional security. She thought about it for a few seconds before tentatively slipping them off and placing them neatly on top of her cloak. She could handle it, she decided. Her powers felt far away tonight.

The next issue was with the rest of her outfit. It had only dawned on her then that she had nothing to sleep in. The only thing she could think of was the chemise she was already wearing underneath her blouse and skirt, but the straps were thin and it barely fell to her knees. It was certainly more modest than the little ice slips she crafted and slept in back home in Arendelle (her own little secret), but she wasn't sure she wanted to walk around in front of Logan with that much skin showing. She wasn't worried he would try something just because he saw a bit of bare leg. She didn't think him an animal, regardless of his history as a bandit. She just wasn't comfortable being that exposed in his company.

Eventually Elsa finally decided to try asking the front desk if they had a sleeping gown she could borrow for the night and just deal with whatever suggestive remarks it might incite from the innkeeper. Fortunately, they did have something for her to wear. It was a white nightgown that was a little seasoned for someone her age. It was shapeless and bulky, but the sleeves were long and the ends almost touched the floor. She changed in the washroom, pulling the gown over her head and gathering her platinum blonde hair up into a loose bun before returning to their room with her day clothes bundled in her arms.

Logan was lounging across the window bench with his arms folded behind his head and his eyes closed when she returned, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. Elsa quietly deposited her clothing on the same vanity chair as her cloak and tip-toed over to his still form.

"Logan?" she said softly, leaning over him with a curious look. "Are you still awake?"

She contemplated poking him in the chest but snatched back her hand when he opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Oh, sorry. I thought you fell asleep."

His hazel eyes looked her up and down, taking in her oh-so flattering nightwear. "You look like an old lady in that thing."

"Better than sleeping in a corset. Wouldn't expect you to understand that, though," she reasoned, pulling a snort from Logan as she made her way over to the bed and crawled on top of it.

She bounced slightly on her knees, testing the quality of the mattress. The springs squeaked shrilly beneath her weight and the mattress itself was lumpy, but not altogether uncomfortable. It was certainly better than sleeping on the floor. Moderately satisfied, Elsa stopped bouncing and plopped down on her bottom. She tucked her legs underneath her and pulled her pillow into her lap, wrapping her arms around it and resting her chin against its plush surface. The pillow felt much nicer than the mattress and the queen couldn't help but hug the pillow closer to her body and bury her face in it, inhaling the smell of generic laundry soap and enjoying the soft feel of it.

"Finished?" Logan asked as he moved to sit up on the bench and lean his back against the window behind him.

"Yes," she nodded, looking back up. Her eyes felt heavy and the mattress was incredibly tempting, however lumpy it may be. It seemed to be calling to her, beckoning her to lay back and surrender herself to oblivion, but she starved off the urge. Her determination and curiosity towards her ex-bandit guide outweighed her fatigue. "Go ahead. And don't forget to start at the beginning."

There was a long silence as Logan carefully mulled over his thoughts and tried to decide where exactly the beginning was. There were so many possible antecedents leading up to this overly complicated crux of a dilemma that the both of them found themselves in now, it was difficult to pick just one beginning. There really wasn't any fixed starting point. He eventually had to settle on starting at the _very_ beginning. Back before he had become a bandit, and back before Dag became leader. If Elsa wanted understand anything about Logan and his past as a bandit, that would be the best place to start.

The Demon's Fang wasn't originally a gang, he told her. He knew it was an iffy statement to start in with, knowing there was a likely chance she wouldn't understand, or even believe him, but there were a few things he needed to get straight with her. He couldn't let Elsa continue on loathing the bandit gang without telling her how it used to be. Not when the original group had been so great. He needed her to understand that he hadn't joined a ruthless bandit gang, that he had never truly been one of Dag's men, even if there was a short period of time where he had taken orders from the man.

It was originally a clan, the _Silfr Ulfr_ clan, and it was led by a man named Atticus Sedrick Barley. A lone man, both content and unsated by his isolation and displacement in life, who set out to build a clan of bandits from the ground up and succeeded. He had been Logan's mentor and the sole reason the young man had become a bandit. It was a relationship that began with a life debt and ended in the worst way for reasons Logan has never fully understood, even years later.

In a lot of ways, Barley reminded him of Tobias. They were both down-to-earth, old fashioned men with a strict code of conduct they lived by and a set of moral beliefs they would soon rather die by than betray. Within Barley's clan, he had his rules and boundaries that he forced his followers to uphold.

Logan listed off on his fingers the old code of honor of his former clan.

"There will be no killing of women and children. No killing of unarmed men. Striking down a man who is unable to defend himself is an unfair fight and is dishonorable to the sword holder, and by extension, his clan. There would be no stealing from a man who has nothing. Only attack those who attack first. Forcing oneself on a maiden of any age is an act done that will not be tolerated under any circumstances. And steal only what is needed to survive. It was all old testament sort of stuff. Barley didn't have much flare for the dramatic, or even a good sense of humor, but he did find pride in being a thief with honor."

To any decent human being those were rules of just general common sense. The golden, universal rule of "do unto others as you would have them do unto you", respectively. But it was unusual for a group of bandits to take on such a righteous sense of morality, especially considering most syndicates lacked all sense entirely. Compared to most bandit groups, Barley's clan was remarkably tame. They probably would've been an outright laughingstock of every collection of bandit affiliations on the entire continent if only the old man hadn't managed his clan in that unique way of his that made them a force to be reckoned with.

The saintly bandit had been smart, much smarter than any other bandit leader. He wasn't in the habit of letting just anyone join his clan. He had a keen eye for reading other people; their behaviors, their personalities, their strengths and their weaknesses. He weeded out the useless and the morally inept, and offered those few he found worthy a place by his side. He was a recruiter. He sought out people who could fight. People who could think quickly on their feet and make sound decisions under pressure. He allowed those who he believed would contribute to join his clan, even if they didn't have much experience under their belts at the time of their joining. He believed anyone could be taught to do anything if the soul was willing enough. Above all else, he sought out potential.

"Is that where you learned to fight?" Elsa asked.

"For the most part, yeah. He taught me the basics and some of his more complex moves, but I picked up a thing or two of my own throughout our travels. I was better at hand-to-hand combat than I was handling swords. I'm a pretty good shot too, but guns can be a hassle sometimes, especially when you're up against opponents who mostly use blades or farming equipment. Firearms are best used for long range fighting and last resorts."

Throughout his story so far, Elsa sat silently atop the bed, hugging her pillow close to her body and soaking up Logan's every word like a sponge. He had only just started and already the queen was enthralled by the tale, imagining in her mind's eye this virtuous, noble bandit leader who Logan admirably painted a picture of.

"How'd you join Barley's clan?"

On a personal level, Sedrick had a very particular standard of living. He wasn't a religious man, per se, but he lived like one, even when it came to his questionable lifestyle. While he rarely cared what his followers did in their spare time (as long as they weren't breaking his rules), he himself kept away from the many "vices" of the common man. He didn't frequent pubs, or card houses or brothels. He chose to put his extra time and energy in training and perfecting his many skills. He and Logan probably would have never crossed paths if Sedrick hadn't encountered Logan purely by chance. It had been a sheer stroke of dumb luck that the clan leader had stumbled across him on the night Logan had gotten himself into deadly trouble and needed help.

"What kind of trouble?"

"The kind that nearly got me killed," he replied, wincing at the memory and his own adolescent stupidity.

"When I first started out on my own, I was only sixteen. I thought I knew everything. I thought could handle myself in the big, bad world without any help. I couldn't really hold down a job during that time. I wasn't strong enough for manual labor and I wasn't smart enough or qualified enough to do much else except run errands for shopkeepers and bakers. A lot of the times I had to resort to stealing and pick-pocketing to get enough money to buy food or clothes. I soon found out I had a talent for it and I became a drifter. Moving from town to town, never staying in one place for too long, sleeping under bridges and camping out in the forest. After a year of living rough, I became more street-wise and confident. I could steal from just about anyone and never get caught. I became cocky and that cockiness got me into a lot of trouble, but never as bad as the night I met Barley.

I bit off more than I could chew. I broke the number one rule of being a thief: never steal from someone you can't out-run. I was scoping out a card game in this pub one night and I stole from one of the players. At the time, the bloke didn't look any different from the other chumps I had already pick-pocketed that evening. However, as it turned out, he was the leader of some local street gang. Not like the Demon's Fang, or Sedrick's clan, but dangerous enough to be a threat, and way too powerful for seventeen-year-old me to handle on my own.

I took whatever cash the leader had in his pocket. He didn't notice at first, but I made the mistake of sticking around. After the game was over, he finally noticed he had been robbed and he was _pissed, _naturally. Apparently he needed that money to pay off a huge gambling debt he had with a bunch of loan sharks. He was smarter than I gave him credit for and it didn't take him long to figure out it was me who took his money. He had two of his boys grab me and drag me out into the alley behind the pub where they proceeded to give me the worst beating of my life, thus far."

Elsa's eyes widened as he described the beating the gamblers gave him, the injuries they inflicted on his young body, and how much it had hurt. He didn't skimp on the detail, though she wished he had. She couldn't help but picture it in her head as he spoke; blood splattered across wet cobbled ground, the cracking of bones as several pairs of fists and boots came in contact with soft flesh, the image of a teenage Logan laying in a filthy alley, curled up into a ball to protect the most vital parts of his body from further damage. She imagined what he must have been thinking and feeling, filled with fear of dying in that alley and the longing to be back home with his mother, safe and sound, even if she was despondent towards him. The queen's hands gripped her pillowcase tighter as she continued to listen.

On his part, Logan sat as still as stone on the window bench, relaying his past experiences with a controlled demeanor.

"I thought they were going to kill me, and they probably would've too if it wasn't for Barley. The man happened upon me and the gamblers in the alley and he stepped in. He didn't even need to say a word. The gambler took one look at him, took one look at the pistol strapped to his belt and his clan insignia on his tunic, and he and his boys backed off. They must've known who he was, or maybe heard of who he was affiliated with. Low life street mutts knew better than to growl at the wolves."

Logan fondly recalled the memory of first seeing Barley, despite the unpleasantness surrounding it. He hadn't noticed the arrival of the bandit at first. All he was able to comprehend was that the gamblers had stopped beating him for a moment and he almost sobbed at the reprieve. He remembered withering pathetically on the ground as he angled himself to follow the gamblers' gazes and saw Barley at the entrance of the alley, standing almost holy-like in his cobalt blue and storm grey uniform, watching the violent act in front of him with a displeased frown.

"He saved my life, and he sure as hell didn't have to. He could've kept walking and let those men beat me to death and it wouldn't have affected his life in the slightest. But he didn't. I don't know why he bothered doing that for some stranger who, as far as he knew, probably deserved what was happening to him, but he did and I'll be forever grateful for it. I suspect he did it because leaving me to die would have conflicted with one of his rules; never turn your back on someone who needs help, or something like that - but it never really explained why he had taken me in.

I had no training. I wasn't much good at doing anything except picking pockets and counting cards. There was no benefit to taking me in, and because of my...affliction, I was also a potential liability," he admitted. "Still though, he did. He taught me so much. How to fight, how to handle weapons, how to navigate forests. He even taught me things you wouldn't expect, like astrology, foreign languages and first aid - reading the stars, communicating with others and properly binding and treating wounds. He taught me so much, I used to think he knew everything."

"He was a father figure to you," Elsa smiled, finding the idea of a young Logan trailing behind the wise and all-knowing Sedrick Barley like an eager puppy incredibly adorable.

"Well, if you're looking to make me blush, then yeah I guess you could put it that way," he mumbled, looking down into his lap bashfully and letting his hair shield his eyes.

Elsa laughed at his reaction, smiling. "Sorry."

"You're not wrong," He smiled tightly back at her. "He took me in and modeled me into the _delightful_ gentleman I am today."

She made a face, making Logan smirk.

"What's so funny?"

"Delightful isn't the word I'd use."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot I was talking to Ms. Perfect."

Normally Elsa would have taken offense to being called perfect, because it only served to remind her that she most certainly was not but was still expected to be. Logan's tone was teasing, though. He meant nothing serious behind the remark. It was just a playful rebuff, in response to her own teasing. She laughed softly again and Logan's smile became a little more relaxed. Revealing all of this to her couldn't be easy for him, and if the circumstances had been different, she wouldn't have asked him to. Elsa understood what it was like to have your greatest secret thrown out into the open for everyone to see. She would have waited for him to open up to her on his own, if he ever felt comfortable enough to do so. She didn't like having him relive the past hardships of his life, especially since he seemed so adamant about keeping his past buried, but she needed to know.

"So, how does Dag fit into all of this?" she asked, shifting her position on the bed so she was now laying on her stomach with her pillow tucked underneath her chest. "Was he a part of the clan when Barley was leader?"

"Oh yes," Logan replied. "He was already there when I joined. He was Barley's second in command - the first person to ever join the old man's clan. His partner, more or less. I have no idea how Barley and Dag came to know each other, or their history. All I knew was that they were complete opposites. As different as night and day. Dag wasn't always the homicidal maniac he is today, but he wasn't exactly a pleasant person to be around either. He was quiet, solemn and not very confrontational without provocation. His views were different than Barley's and they crossed wires constantly, but for the most part he kept his thoughts to himself. Or until something pissed him off, that is. He had an explosive temper. At the drop of a dime, he could go from a zero to a hundred rage. It was quite a thing to witness."

Barley himself was just one big walking contradiction, with his saintly point of view but questionable choice in career. He was certainly difficult to pin down and it was almost impossible to tell what he was thinking. Logan could never decided whether Barley did what he did because he had some dark demons in his life and they were what kept him from leading the wholesome existence he craved, or if his sense of right and wrong was on a level completely different from anyone else's and he honestly found a way to be a perfect balance of both. Either way, he was a complicated guy.

Dag, on the other hand, wasn't that hard to figure out. He was one mean puppy, but he was a strategical genius, among many other things. Even Barley couldn't ignore that. And he wasn't altogether evil and demented, not at that point, so it was easy for Barley to overlook Dag's shortcomings and utilize the important skills he had to offer, if only until Dag did something unforgivable and the leader was forced to throw him out, which Logan always knew was inevitable.

There was no love lost between Logan and Dag after he left the gang. They never really saw eye to eye, even when Barley was in charge and Dag still had some small semblance of sanity. He absolutely hated Logan when Barley took him on as his student. While Barley saw Logan as a clever, quick-witted kid - a clean slate to mold into the ideal fighter - Dag saw him as nothing but a weak link. He didn't approve of Barley training the teen. It wasn't jealousy that drove the dislike, or anything close to that, but Dag did see the younger man as a potential threat. Another one of Dag's big character flaws was that he could be very paranoid at times. Logan didn't doubt that Dag was hostile towards him because he believed Barley had taken Logan on as Dag's eventual replacement.

There had been a lot of fighting between the leader and his second in command, towards the end there. Their plans and intentions conflicted more than ever and Dag was becoming more restless and harder to pacify. They kept their disagreements to themselves, though, keeping the rest of the clan more or less in the dark about their deteriorating partnership and the cause of it. They knew something was wrong, but they didn't know what it was. Even Logan had been left out of the loop and he had become closer to Barley than anyone at that point.

It was only a matter of time before all that mounting tension finally came to a head.

"There was an accident," Logan revealed, his tone taking on an even grimmer note than before. The light around him seemed to dim even though the moon still streamed in from the window. It made it difficult to see his face when his head sagged and he fixated on the hand laying on top of his propped up leg. Elsa didn't have to see his face to know that this next part was most likely the main reason why he didn't want to tell her his story. It was painful and he didn't like thinking about it anymore than he had to, let alone say it out loud. It only served to remind him that all this was real and that it actually happened.

"We were a few weeks off from London, England. We spent most of our winters settled along the outskirts of large cities and London had been the closest at the time. We were never very active in the winter. It's a difficult season, for anyone, including us, and Barley preferred to either migrate somewhere warmer until Spring, or set up fort somewhere close to a city where necessities wouldn't be scarce. But before we could even come close, the mountains we were traveling through hit a patch of unexpected weather and we became snowbound. It wasn't that big of a deal. We had plenty of provisions to last us until the weather cleared enough for travel. It took a lot of scouting, but we eventually found a spot at the base of this high cliff where we could set up camp."

The events leading up to the incident had been unremarkable. Life in the clan went on as it usually did. Each of them had a job they needed to do to prepare for winter. There really wasn't anything that could have warned them of what was about to happen. No signs that Logan could remember seeing, even after years of replaying that fateful day in his head, wondering where exactly things went wrong and what he could have done differently to prevent it and maybe save the life of his mentor.

They had been tasked with hiking to the nearest village and gathering supplies - "they" being Logan and most of the clan. Barley was originally meant to go with them, leading the supply run, but before they had set out, Dag pulled their leader aside and requested a word with him. They exchanged words, quietly and just far enough from where Logan was pretending not to eavesdrop on their conversation. It almost seemed to escalate into an argument, with Dag being uncharacteristically persistent with whatever it was he was speaking to Barley about, and Barley, in an attempt to defuse whatever conflict might spark between them, backed out of the supply run in favor of staying behind.

Usually, that wouldn't have raised any red flags since this was something that happened often, but there was something with the way Dag seemed so adamant. It wasn't an obvious tell. He wasn't spelling it out blatantly for anybody to see, but it seemed almost as if Dag was trying to coax Barley out of their camp, into the opposite direction of where Logan and the other bandits were headed. Logan protested, dropping his unconvincing act of unawares and cutting into their private discussion. He ignored the unimpressed look Barley sent him for interrupting and offered to stay behind with him. He had already lost all trust in Dag and something about leaving behind his leader didn't sit right with him. It had been a gut feeling that he couldn't ignore - tactile premonition in the form of a cold chill running down his spine and an uneasy feeling that things are about to go horribly wrong.

He hadn't even bothered to hide the distrustful sneer he sent Dag as he placed himself none-too-subtly between Dag and his leader. There was something certainly...off about Dag that day. If he had paid closer attention, then maybe he would have been able to tell what it was, but as it were, he hadn't. Ironically enough, his suspicions were what kept him from really seeing the truth. Dag had that way about him. He made you feel suspicious and uncertain, but he made it difficult to figure out what it was exactly. He easily misdirected you into believing one thing while the reality of the situation was completely different. Logan was ashamed to admit to Elsa that he had allowed himself to fall victim to that.

Because for the longest time, Logan believed it was him who had caused the fissure between Barley and Dag. He believed that his apprenticeship with their leader was toxic in Dag's eyes and he was attempting to try and turn Barley against him. Only after everything that happened that day did Logan realize it really had nothing to do with him. It had been solely about Sedrick and his role as leader, and because of that mistake, Logan may have missed his one and only chance to prevent the death of his mentor.

The second in command had been eerily quiet the days leading up to that evening, more quiet than he had been in a long time. That should have been Logan's first clue. Barley declined Logan's offer to stay behind and sternly ordered his student to leave with the others. When Logan hesitated, Sedrick gave him that don't-sass-me-boy look, and put a firm hand on his shoulder.

'_There's nothing he can say about you that I haven't already said a hundred times myself, son._'

It had been a playful jab with a deeper meaning, said in a strict voice with a tiny hint of a smile just underneath the surface. Of course the old man had picked up on Logan's insecurities. He must have shared similar suspicions and it was his way of telling Logan that whatever trick Dag might be trying to pull, it wouldn't work. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes and it was just enough to get Logan to agree to leave camp.

It was difficult for Logan to continue the story beyond that point, mainly because the events were a little more than a blur and what actually happened was really only speculation.

There had been an old factory atop one of the cliff edges that overlooked their camp. A fire had erupted somehow within the abandoned factory, the flames easily spreading along dry, splintered wood and moss-covered walls. Logan and his group saw the cloud of black smoke rise up and pollute the blue sky all the way from town. They hadn't known it at the time, but the factory held two of their own. They were only made aware that something was wrong when they returned to camp and found it completely empty, with the guards Barley had assigned to watch over their camp gone from their posts. It was only when they made their way through the smokey forest, inching ever closer up the rocky ridge towards the burning factory that they spotted the rest of their clan, battling the flames.

"We didn't know what was going on until the others told us that Barley and Dag were inside the factory. We did our best to put the fire out with what little water we had and find a way inside, but the whole place was burning by then. It would have been suicide. The smoke was so thick, we could barely see three feet in front of us. The factory was gone within minutes."

"And your mentor?"

"Sedrick was gone," Logan shrugged his shoulders. Just saying he died wasn't even enough to cover just how plain _gone_ Barley was. "Burnt up with the rest of the factory. Even if he managed to avoid the flames, once the foundation of the factory caught, the whole place collapsed. It folded into itself and crushed anybody who was inside, save for Dag who had made it to the entrance of the factory before a support beam fell on him. We were only able to pull him from the rubble. He was badly burnt all over his upper body and he was screaming bloody murder when we found him. He was still partially on fire and we had to practically stomp him out. We searched the wreckage for Sedrick, but found nothing. Everything was burnt down to ashes."

At the revelation of Barley's sudden demise and the melancholic look on Logan's face as he stared off at nothing, Elsa looked down at the bed, absently tracing her finger over the quilt in small circles as she tried to think of something to say. She couldn't help but think of her parents in relation to the dark turn in the story and the way they were taken out of the world; swallowed up by the sea in one mighty gulp, never to resurface again. A watery grave versus a burning inferno. Drowning in darkness versus being baked to a crisp. Neither could have been a quick, painless way to go, and nor at all easy on the loved ones left behind.

It was still a mystery why Barley and Dag had been inside that old factory, especially when it was obvious that the structure was dangerously unstable. Of course the ex-bandit suspected foul play had something to do with his mentor's demise, of course he had. But the whole incident had happened so fast, so spontaneously, whatever evidence there might have been supporting that fact, beyond Dag's strange behavior that day, was probably burnt up in the fire and later swept up by the whirlwind aftermath that was Barley's death and Dag's injuries.

"At the time, before I started to suspect that Dag had a part in Barley's death, I felt bad for the guy. Being burnt alive is the worse and Dag had third degree burns in spades, but now I'm glad that most of his face looks like a shredded burlap sack. He took a great thing and ran it straight into the ground in less than two years."

Once Dag had healed enough to take control of the clan, it was nothing but a downward spiral.

It started off with the new members he recruited soon after becoming leader. Because he was out of commission for almost a year, a large portion of their clan had split off and left the group in search for something different, something with a commission. They had been idle for the longest time, too long for the men who hadn't been quite as devoted to Barley. It was rough getting back into an active group and one of the first things that needed to be done was a restock of their numbers. It would have been a smart, logical first decision for Dag to make as leader, if it wasn't for the nature of the new men he hired. He never had the patience or moral sensibility to go through Barley's extensive recruitment process. He preferred quantity over quality, scouting pubs and taverns for anybody with a pulse and sober enough to hold a sword in their hand.

The new class of members significantly lowered the state of the already weakened clan. Interpersonal relationships between members were almost nonexistent, which wasn't good for the overall health of the group. Logan wouldn't say that the original clan was one big, happy family back when Barley was in charge, but they respected each other, regarded each other as brothers in arms and knew how to work well as a group. That had been enough. In the new group, though, nobody liked nobody and there was a severe lack of trust. It was impossible to get anything done with the same speed and efficiency they did when Barley was leader.

And to make things worse, the new members shared Dag's controversial view on the differences between right and wrong. They were greedy men. They were dangerous men. Logan's old clan was now a breeding ground for men like fat, perverted Merrick, and Dag was doing nothing to stop it. In fact, he seemed to encourage it. He believed all the ill changes were actually making their bandit _gang_ stronger. Ever since the accident, the man had become unhinged. The entire incident left the edges of his sanity permanently scorched, reducing him to a dangerously angry and paranoid man. His temper and penchant for violence became even more volatile than before, and among the many scars he had received from the fire, both physical and psychological, he had also developed a strange fixation with fire.

It was an element that was utilized heavily in their bandit raids, more so than what was ever used when Barley was in charge. Fire was too unpredictable, too hard to control and had a tendency to turn on its handler. With swords, blades and other weapons, there's always a conscious, aware mind behind their use, but not with fire. Fire obliterated everything in its path and it was not all discriminatory, which was probably why Dag fancied it so much. He probably saw himself as something special for surviving such a close, deadly encounter with it. In his newly fragmented mind, he must see himself as some sort of advocate for it, or something. Logan never really understood that man. All he knew was that Dag had seriously lost his marbles when one day Logan caught the leader whispering to an open flame, cooing to it like one would a lover.

Yes, creepy as hell. Logan's sentiments exactly.

He had confronted Dag once about it ("it" being the increased use of fire in their raids. Not the flame cooing), just once, in the beginning. It was after one of their raids and Logan had demanded to know how the older man could find it necessary, or even remotely acceptable, to burn the village down to the ground when the villagers had surrendered with little fight and the bandits had already taken everything of value. It wasn't right and it wasn't the way they did things.

Dag answered him with a brutal pistol whip that sent Logan to the ground and busted his lip.

After that, it was clear that things were going to change, and not for the better. And at a loss of what to do, what to say and where to go, Logan continued following orders just like everyone else, regardless of the fact that everyone felt the same dread and unease at Dag's decisions. For the next couple years, Logan went through the motions. It wasn't a time in his life that he was particularly proud of, but he tried his best to keep his thoughts straight and maintain his sense of self among the violence and pointless bloodshed.

"You still went along with it, though."

Elsa's tone wasn't accusatory, but there was an unspoken statement in there, something a little less than subtext. It was a question of blame that he wasn't entirely sure who it was directed at.

He shook his head. "No. You don't understand. Just getting up and leaving wasn't an opinion. You have no idea how much it took for me to finally quit, to give up on what Barley tried to create and admit it was all over. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, and not just sentimental reasons. Dag wasn't going to just let people leave. You need to finish what you start, he believed, and he wasn't going to let people think they can leave anytime they wanted. In order to leave his gang, you had to pay a price."

"And what price was that?"

"I'm not sure you want to know."

"Yes I do," she insisted, pulling herself up into a sitting position. "You promised to tell me the whole story, remember?"

Logan looked up at her again, his face twisted in a scowl, his brow knotted and his nostrils flaring slightly as he opened his mouth to snap at her (resisting the urge to childishly bark '_mind your own business!_'), but stopped short. He warred with himself over what he should do; give Elsa a little less than what she asked for, only what he believed she could handle? Or give her _exactly_ what she asked for?

In the end, he decided to hell with it. If she wanted to know the whole story, who was he to deny her?

He let out a long-suffered sigh and stood up from his bench, wordlessly making his way towards the bed with another unreadable expression on his face. Elsa watched him warily as he reached down and started to pull up the hem of his shirt to reveal his chest as he moved closer. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise at the unexpected move and she froze, rooted to her spot on the bed. She opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, why he was coming towards her like that, but the words died in her throat when he stopped a foot from the bed and lifted his shirt up higher to expose his chest.

The blush that had blossomed across Elsa's cheeks immediately drained away along with the rest of the color in her face when she saw the scars on his chest. Her jaw dropped a little and her eyes widened even more as she took in the series of slightly discolored markings that road-mapped across his torso. They converged in the center, slashing right over his heart in a collection of four, jagged lines, as if someone had tried to crudely cut the beating organ right out of his body.

"Oh my God," she whispered in awe, still staring wide-eyed.

How had she not noticed them before? Granted, she had only gotten a brief glance of his chest when she first walked into the room, but she was surprised they hadn't immediately drawn her eye, being as obvious and almost disfiguring as they were. They were hard to look at without imagining the kind of pain such an attack would incite.

There were a few stray cuts, along his ribs and breast bone. Without realizing it, she had reached out a hand to skim her fingertips against one of the markings; the smaller of the scars - thin, faint and on his stomach. Her touch was tentative and almost feathery as it pressed into his skin, as if she was afraid the old wounds could still hurt him. He flinched, but it was more from the feeling of the touch itself rather than any phantom pain. The scar felt a little bumpy underneath her fingertip where the skin failed to stitch back together properly, leaving the marking noticeable and a few shades paler than the untouched skin of Logan's chest.

She eyed the bigger, more ghastly-looking scars across his heart, but didn't touch them. Part of her wanted to, having never before seen or touched something so violent looking, but couldn't bring herself to do it. Her eyes flickered up to meet Logan's, who hadn't looked away from her since he had stood up. She had to crane her head back a little to be able to look him in the eyes. Even when sitting atop a bed, he still managed to tower over her. His hazel eyes were as solid as hardened ember, once again shining more pale brown than green. He fixed her with a critical look. When her exploration was over, he let go of his shirt and it fell back into place over his chest and stomach, covering the scars once again.

"Dag won't just let someone leave. This is his way of making sure your time spent as one of his followers is never forgotten. I told him I wanted to leave and he sicced the entire gang on me, giving me the new worst beating of my life - thus far. It was his twisted idea of a 'going away' party. The price to leave is blood. Blood and pain."

He remembered being surrounded by them. Some were regretful, the ones who were still apart of the original group. He could see it in their eyes as they lashed out at him, too afraid to not participate in Logan's farewell beating should Dag see it as another act of betrayal. Logan wasn't the first one to seek release from their new group. The few before him had met grisly ends and it looked as if he was doomed to conform to that pattern. Just another link in the chain. The others, the newest members, gladly jumped in on the fun, almost giddy at the prospect of inflicting pain on the former leader's pet stray.

Needless to say, Logan wasn't the most popular bandit in the bunch, what with his better training, higher intelligence and sarcastic nature - and they were more than happy to finally be rid of him. He didn't go down easy, though. Numbers were definitely not on his side, but there was no way in hell he was just going to lay down and let Dag and his hounds stomp him to death. It was a mad flurry of flying limbs, pained grunts and hits aimed to cause as much damage as possible. The young man, just barely into his twenties, did everything he could to defend himself, to give back just as much pain as he received - if not to fight for his life, then to at least make a memorable last stand against Dag and his tyranny.

Logan had been much too young to die, but he'd much rather go down with the last remnants of Barley's crumbling legacy, fighting back against something he knew was wrong, than continue living and thriving in Dag's corrupt one.

He didn't know how long the beating went on for. It seemed like hours and all he was really aware of was how much everything hurt, much like that fateful beating he received from those nasty gamblers years before. A small part of him processed the fact that they were only using their bare hands and heavy boots, which he felt a grim gratitude for until his body finally gave in and he collapsed on the ground in front of Dag. It was then that the leader finally stepped forward to leave his own mark on Logan, ordering two of his men to hold the still struggling man down as their leader pulled out a knife. He then proceeded to carve Logan's betrayal into his chest so he (and anybody else who saw the scars) would never forget what he used to be. Assuming of course Logan made it out alive, which at the time seemed very unlikely.

Thinking back on it, the first cut hadn't actually hurt that much, not in the face of his beaten and bruised body. The knife had been freshly sharpened, cutting through his skin like warm butter before his mind could comprehend what was happening. The second and third cut had been acutely more unpleasant. The pain and pressure increased with each stroke of the blade, making his chest feel like it was on fire. Logan had been drifting in and out of consciousness, his vision blurry and his mind foggy. He had received quite a few blows to the head and he was almost relieved he hadn't been fully coherent at the time of his mutilation, otherwise the shock probably would have killed him.

When Dag was finished, Logan was just barely conscious. His whole body felt numb and there was a high-pitched ringing in his ears. He heard Dag say something above him, but it was muffled, like the man was talking underwater. No doubt he said something mocking, something derogatory - his last words to Barley's most faithful follower before ordering his men to drag Logan's broken body over to a small ravine and toss him into the gushing river below. He blacked out before he even hit the water.

Elsa sat on top of the bed, one hand over her mouth and her eyes so wide and disbelieving, Logan wondered if they would ever shrink back down to their original size. He wished they would. Not only to stop the uncomfortable staring, but because he wasn't sure he could handle so much blue. Why did her eyes have to be so goddamn _blue_? It was highly distracting.

"If you can survive all that, which most don't, then Dag considers all ties broken and you're free to go."

"How'd you survive?" Elsa asked, finally prying her hand away from her mouth, but kept it close.

"I got lucky. Tobias found me when I washed up on his land."

He remembered slowly climbing out of unconsciousness only to be blinded by the bright, morning sun. The usually soft, tickling sensation of water running over skin caused pain to flare through his entire body, ripping a broken cry from his throat. He tried to pull himself upright, to ignore the pain, but his body refused to move. He could only lie there, washed up on the river bank with water lapping at his head as he tried to focus on anything but how horrible he felt.

Amidst the pain, he registered a sound coming from somewhere to his right. He felt a light presence appear next to him. A black, wet nose skimming over his still form, sniffing at him curiously before licking his face. He tried to push away the cream-colored collie that had materialized out of nowhere, but his limb wouldn't cooperate. The slobbery assault was only called off when a sharp whistle cut through the air and the creature retreated. It was swiftly replaced by the barrel of a shotgun, pointed directly in his face.

Logan then went on to reveal his past with Tobias. The old man had found him and pulled him out of the river, despite the fact that he knew Logan was a bandit because of the uniform he still wore. There was obvious distrust and suspicion there, rolling off the older gentleman in waves, but Logan found himself being hauled back to Tobias' home in the woods and being patched up anyways. The man went even as far as to protect the wounded ex-bandit when Dag came looking for him.

"Wait," Elsa cut in. "I thought you said if you survived, Dag would leave you alone."

"Yeah. That's the typical deal," Logan nodded. "But me surviving wasn't the intended endgame. Dag still held that vendetta against me. They tracked the path of the river and eventually worked out where my body would've washed up. When they didn't find it, they searched the area. They came across Tobias' cabin and hounded the old man for information. He refused to answer their questions, told them to get off his land before he broke out his shotgun and filled them with lead. They left, but later came back with Dag. The leader was convinced Tobias was hiding me somewhere. They tossed his cabin, tore everything apart looking for me, but Tobias had already moved me to his old hunting shed that was about half a mile behind his house.

Dag threatened him, but Tobias was stubborn. He wouldn't bow to a man like Dag, no matter what was at stake. His daughter had died just two years before and his wife even longer before that, so he had nothing to lose except his self-respect, and there was no way he was ever going to give that up. Dag didn't respond well to his defiance. He broke Tobias' leg in three places and nearly crushed in his kneecap, giving him his permanent limp, but he still refused to tell him that I was alive."

The resemblance between Tobias and Barley had been so uncanny, Logan would have sworn his old mentor had been reincarnated if reincarnation actually worked that way. Once again, he had been saved by a complete stranger, only this time his savior paid a painful price for stepping in. When Logan had recovered enough to finally be able to comprehend things again, he felt incredibly guilty for bringing Dag to Tobias' doorstep. Because of him, the old man was now a cripple. When Logan fully recovered, he tried to repay the life debt he had with the old man, but Tobias never asked for anything. He only advised Logan to pick his affiliations more wisely in the future.

Logan stuck around for a while afterwards, helping out with the field work and the repairs to Tobias' home. They developed a precarious relationship. Not quite a friendship, but they had a solid respect for each other. The old man told him to bugger off almost every single day, claiming he didn't need any help, but Logan didn't plan to leave until he was sure Tobias could handle his fields and his animals with a bum leg. The least the ex-bandit could do was help him adjust to this new pace in life, especially since it was his fault Tobias got hurt in the first place. Once Tobias proved he could continue surviving on his own without any help, Logan finally gave into his wishes and left his land.

Logan then set about rebuilding his life, piece by piece, and finding himself again after almost having his identity stripped bare by his former gang.

"I became a drifter again. Going from town to town while occasionally coming back to check in on Tobias. I don't really know how my job as a "thug-for-hire" - as you so frequently like to put it - started, but now that I actually had some training and experience, people started coming to me with tasks and jobs they couldn't do themselves and eventually I built up a reputation. I kept mostly to myself, though. I didn't associate much outside of my job. The old gang believed I was dead and I didn't go out of my way to prove them wrong. Even if Dag tried to go back on our exit agreement, I didn't. As far as I was concerned, all ties were cut."

"You never made any friends worth keeping? No meaningful relationships? Nobody from your former clan worth seeing again?" Elsa asked, grateful that they were finally past the grim heaviness of Logan's story.

"There were a few guys I would loosely consider friends, but anyone worth reliving that nightmare for? Hell no. They're not worth me getting involved with Dag again."

Elsa blinked and furrowed her brow.

She could believe that he had never made any significant ties to his old clan beyond his mentor (Logan wasn't exactly Mr. Sociable). She could believe that there was nobody in this new gang worth re-entering the conflict for, but then did that imply that _Elsa_ was? Because he was most definitely back on Dag's black list because of her.

"Although," Logan spoke up thoughtfully, breaking her train of thought. "I was in one relationship for a few months when I was twenty, back before things went to shit, with this girl who turned out to be batshit crazy, but _that_ is another horror story for a whole 'nother time. I still have nightmares about it, and I rather not elaborate further."

She didn't know whether he was being serious or not, but the queen welcomed the attempt at humor. It helped dispel some of the gloom. She couldn't help but smile a little.

"You were right," she finally admitted. "About me not understanding - not understanding any of this. With what Dag did to you, I can't even imagine what that must've been like. The worst injury I ever got was a mild concussion." Courtesy of the Duke of Weasleton's personal guard. "Sometimes I forget how sheltered castle life can be."

"Don't beat yourself up over it. Every lifestyle has its struggles and pitfalls," he replied almost sagely as he moved to lay back on the window bench with his arms tucked behind his head. "How you handle yourself is the important thing."

"Mm, maybe," Elsa hummed with a small sigh, looking down at her ungloved hands for a moment before looking back at Logan. "What made you finally quit?"

He looked over at her. "What?"

"Why'd you quit the gang if you knew you could possibly be killed for it?" she asked. "Did something happen? Something that finally made you quit?"

Logan was quiet for a moment.

Now that he was free from the tyrannical clutches of Dag and the pack of wolves he turned their old clan into, he could admit that he had wanted to quit the gang long before their new leader started losing his mind. Things just weren't the same without Sedrick and his life as a bandit was starting to feel stagnant, and just like with his childhood home. He got that feeling that told him it was time to move on. If only the actual act of leaving wasn't easier said than done.

In all honesty, it wasn't any one big thing that finally made him do it. It was more like a series of small ones, each one less acceptable and more difficult to live with than the last. The raids, slowly become more and more unnecessarily bloody and violent. The burning of people and their homes for absolutely no reason. The constant threat of becoming numb to it all and losing himself completely. The late, sleepless nights staring up at the ceiling, wondering just how long things have been out of control and trying to figure out how the hell he had let it get this far out of hand.

Logan decided to cut his losses and take the beating while Dag was still giving people a chance to leave alive, instead of just shooting them on the spot like how Logan heard through the grapevine that he did now. He could see how worse of a man Dag was turning into and he wanted no part of it.

"Why'd you leave?"

At her question, he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her, still sitting atop the bed with her pillow cradled in her lap. As he contemplated his answer, his gaze flickered up at the bun of platinum hair resting on top of her head and wondered randomly what her hair looked like down, completely down. Free of all pins and ribbons, hanging unrestrained around her heart shaped face and pooling down her shoulders.

He thought about telling her the full of it - how bad it had been, how out of control everything was and how ugly of a person he could see himself becoming if he continued on that path. He thought about telling her how he never wanted any of this. He just wanted to get out of his hometown, breakaway from old inhibitions, and build a life for himself where he wouldn't be considered weak or a useless screw up. He thought about telling her where exactly his need to feel strong and in control of himself stemmed from - his hidden handicap that made his childhood lonelier than what should have been healthy (ironically in the very sake of his health).

He could have told her all that, and something about her made him want to, but instead...

"Didn't like the dental plan," he replied dryly before rolling over and turning his back to her. "That's enough for tonight."

She blinked at his back, wondering if that was really the end of it. His dismissal was abrupt, as usual, but she couldn't find it in her to be annoyed. It was really late and dawn would be creeping up on them very soon. The longer she dragged this out, the later they would leave in the morning and get back on the road. Logan had shared more than enough tonight, more than what was fair.

Elsa exhaled through her nose as she finally moved to crawl underneath the blankets of her bed. She reached over to blow out the small candle burning on the bedside table, shrouding the room in darkness. She folded the quilt neatly over her stomach and laid her hands on top as she stared up at the ceiling. Silence blanketed the room as the two occupants finally settled in. Elsa replayed the events of the night in her head again, mulling over all the new details she had learned about Logan and how much he had struggled to get to where he was now.

"Thank you for telling me all that," she spoke softly into the darkness. "I'm sorry I overreacted. Back in the forest."

"Don't be," he said, still facing the window. "I wouldn't have reacted any better if it had been me."

"Still-"

"No," he cut in with a tone of finality. "Don't apologize for being right about me. I might not be a bandit anymore, but I'm still just as bad as they are. Let's not forget that."

Elsa opened her mouth to argue, but decided there really wasn't any point in it. She was way too tired for that. Instead, she let out another soft sigh before turning on her side with her back facing Logan just as he had done to her. She closed her eyes and tried not to think anymore until she finally nodded off.

Logan listened to the sound of Elsa's breathing evening out as she fell asleep. His mind was racing with everything that had happened. It had definitely been one of the more emotionally draining evenings he's had in a while, and because that was his least favorite kind of evening, he couldn't help feeling a little peeved that the blonde woman had made him revisit all those dark places and talk about crap he hadn't thought about in years.

She had been shocked, which was no surprise. He told her as much as he could without scaring her off. She was tougher than she looked, but there had been a few times throughout his tale where she had become a little green around the gills. However, she had also been curious and fascinated by his story, and never once did she appear at all judgmental of him. That was a surprise, especially considering her initial reaction to finding out he was an ex-bandit. It seemed as though he had succeeded in convincing her that this whole journey wasn't a big trap and he wasn't a total piece of human garbage, and that made him feel...weird.

No doubt he lost a lot of her trust just for the fact that he hadn't been forthright with her in the first place, but now that she knew the bandit gang hadn't always been that way, she could better accept Logan's history with them. His idolization of Barley and Logan's tutelage under him probably helped with that. The saintly bandit tended to have that effect on people.

Nobody really knew why Barley did what he did, being as straight-edged as he was. Usually the kind of people who run off and join bandit gangs do it because they were at a loss for what else to do with their lives. The men who had chosen to follow Barley all had a variety of different social stigmas that set them apart from everyone else, making it difficult for them to be accepted. They just didn't fit in, and whether that was because of how they were raised, or they had a skill or talent that didn't cater to ordinary living, or if there was just something about them personally that set them apart - it was all relative, and they all ended up in the same place.

Sedrick, though. He was those rare types that could go either way, and for whatever reason, he had chosen to be a little bit of both. It was a personality choice that Logan had admired and sought out for himself. He liked the idea of being that versatile. He wanted to be in that bizarre frame of mind where he could do just about anything one day, and then do something completely different the next. To change so drastically at a moments notice. Life just seemed so much more interesting that way, and after years of trying, he obtained such a lifestyle and he was content.

He didn't, however, take in account how lonely that lifestyle could be.

It wasn't painfully lonely. Logan could still establish connections with other people if he wanted to, but the problem was that he felt too constricted when staying in one place for too long. If he had learned anything from past experiences, it was that hesitation was never healthy for him. He needed things to keep him stable, to keep him anchored in one spot, or else he felt the urge to roam and seek out other peoples' problems to solve because he had difficulty facing his own.

Logan had been in a state of transition for a while now and with all this bad business with Dag resurfacing, he had a feeling it would all soon come to a head. All because of some fair-haired castle servant determined to return home to save her ruler. A quick-witted, almost sassy castle servant (a woman after his own heart, he mused derisively). Elsa had an interesting way of keeping his thoughts, more or less, centered. There was something about her, the way she spoke and held herself, that he felt himself gravitate towards. He didn't like thinking about it much, but he couldn't deny he had grown comfortable in her presence. He usually couldn't stand being around people for very long, but he found he didn't mind it so much with her.

His eyes flickered briefly to the faint reflection of the room's bed in the window, his eyes just barely making out Elsa's form burrowed underneath the blankets. He watched her for a moment, listening to her steady breathing in the silence of their room until he closed his eyes, dismissing his thoughts.

There was no point in thinking about it anyways.

* * *

**AN: ****Sorry for kind of leaving you guys hanging there. I wanted to get this out earlier so you could finally see Logan's backstory since you guys seemed excited about it. ****In my defense though, this chapter turned out WAY longer than I intended it to. This is probably the longest chapter to date and you wouldn't believe how frustrating it was to write. Hopefully you guys enjoyed it. Make sure to let me know!**

**Thumbs up to TheObsessor11294 for helping me with Barley's clan name. I'm horrible at naming things and she suggested using old Norse, like in the beginning of Frozen. Barley's clan name means "Silver Wolves". I'm horrible at naming things so it's rather simple. I hope I have it in the right context. Let me know if I don't.**

**Once again, this was a LONG chapter, so I'd imagine my beta readers and I might have missed a mistake or two throughout the chapter. So if you notice a mistake in the content, let me know in a review and I'll fix it. Thanks!**

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	11. Anna and Kristoff II

**AN: Special thanks to everybody who left a review last chapter. I greatly appreciate it!**

**Another Anna and Kristoff chapter coming at you guys. It's been a while since we checked in on these two. ****One of the things I've been having fun with while writing this story is taking the characters out of their comfort zones. I enjoy seeing if I can put Frozen's canon characters into difficult situations and still write them in-character even if they have to act in a certain way that isn't normal or comfortable for them; like having Anna face off against the Arendelle council. ****Of course we all know it isn't in Anna's nature to be stern and serious like Elsa when handling kingdom matters, but when push comes to shove, we also know Anna will do anything to protect the people she loves. Even if that means stepping into a new, important role that she isn't altogether ready for.**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (6/26/16)**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or its characters.**

* * *

"Is it straight?"

"Yeah, it's straight."

"Are you sure? Double check. This is important, I need to look perfect."

"Yes, it's straight."

"Are you positive?"

"Anna, calm down. I'm staring right at it. Your headband is totally straight."

"Are. you. _positive_?"

"_Yes._"

Anna gave her fiance a dubious look before turning away and checking her hair in a suit of armor, ignoring the frown now being sent her way.

It wasn't a _headband._ It was a tiara. How could she trust Kristoff when he told her it was on straight when he didn't even know what "it" was? Men were so useless, Anna thought with annoyance as she squinted at her reflection in the breast plate. Kristoff let out a sigh somewhere behind her.

The pair stood outside the double doors of the castle's meeting chamber. Anna hadn't stopped fidgeting with her hair and clothes since they had left her bedroom nearly an hour ago. Kristoff knew her restlessness had nothing to do with what she was wearing. She was nervous about her upcoming meeting with the Arendelle council. He tried to get her to calm down, but she was beyond rationality at this point. He didn't mind it if Anna took her frustrations out on him. She was going through a lot right now - had been for a very long time. Her thoughtless remarks and sometimes short temper didn't bother him. Never did, really. Even before Elsa's abduction. He knew she never meant any of it. It wasn't in Anna's nature to hurt someone and not immediately seek forgiveness. But it was in her nature to often speak without thinking, and he had long since accepted that fact about her.

After what happened between them just a few days earlier, Kristoff assured her that there were no hard feelings. He wasn't a royal. In this situation, he was next to useless and it wasn't a nice feeling knowing he couldn't do much to help Anna beyond giving her moral support, despite how badly he wanted to do so much more.

"You look fine," the ice harvester said, his bulky reflection appearing next to hers in the armor. "They're not the fashion police. I'm sure there's a million other more important things on the council's mind right now than your hair."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Anna nodded. There was a nervous tremor in her voice as she pried her hands off her head and forced them to hang at her sides. She looked at her reflection staring wide-eyed with dread back at her. She forced aside that bubble of anxiety in her stomach and took in a deep breath to calm herself, holding it in and then slowly letting it out before opening her eyes, declaring -

"I can't do this."

"_Anna_," Kristoff stressed. He hated all the stress Anna was going through, but this was about the hundredth time she said that in the last half hour. He knew she was nervous, but she needed to stay positive if they were going to get through this. "We talked about this already. You're going to do just fine."

She turned on her heel, shaking her head. She broke out into a brisk march in the opposite direction of the meeting room. "Nope, can't do it."

Kristoff rolled his eyes and went after her. He quickly matched her retreating strides with his own, passing her and placing himself firmly in her path like a brick wall to block her escape.

"Anna, you got this."

"Nope, nope, nope," she repeated like a mantra, shifting back and forth to try to outmaneuver her boulder of a fiance. "Nope."

He didn't relent. "Come on, I thought you got past this. You were doing so well!"

After another few days of sulking in her bedroom, feeling sorry enough for both Elsa and herself combined, Anna had arisen from her bed with a new found determination to be productive and useful. It was hard to say what exactly brought on this change, but Kristoff didn't question it. Anna was finally bouncing back, that was the important thing. She agreed to a meeting with the Arendelle council where they would discuss possible...long-term arrangements for the kingdom in Elsa's absence. The princess remained adamant in her belief that Elsa would return home, but she was ready to acknowledge that someone had to see to the upkeep of the kingdom in the meantime.

As soon as she apologized for her little outburst the other day and made up with Kristoff, they went to Councilman Baard together and told the short man that the princess was ready to face the rest of the council. In the hours leading up to the meeting, Anna had been a mess of frantic speech and clumsy fumbling as she tried to cram fifteen years worth of lessons in royal etiquette that she _should've_ learned when she was eight, like Elsa had, but didn't because their parent's attention had shifted fully on to her sister and her powers by that point. Thinking back on that now, Anna couldn't help think that her parents really dropped the ball on that one. The only real point of having a second child was for it to be a spare to the first in the event something should happen, which it had, and her parents shielded Anna and Elsa from each other for so long, the young princess feared she couldn't be a proper substitute because she never learned how.

So now it was a mad dash for Anna to learn everything she needed to in order to convince the council she _was_ a proper substitute for Elsa with Kai reading off the basic, 101 "How to be a queen" guidelines from a schoolbook written for five-year-olds while Anna brushed her teeth and Gerda battled the ferocious tangles in her hair, left to build up for Lord knows how many weeks.

She had borrowed one of Elsa's dresses to help her look a little more like a queen. When she went through her own wardrobe, the dresses that she used to adore now seemed too childish, or showed too much skin (exposed elbows? What was she, a harlot?). The dress she took from Elsa's closet was a stiff-looking thing with a color concoction of orchid and violet that clashed a little with her hair (no doubt designed to better compliment platinum blonde rather than orangish-blonde), but it looked appropriate enough for a council meeting, so she swiped it off the hanger.

She thought about wearing high heels to help compensate for the inch of height Elsa had on her, but ultimately decided against it. She opted to wearing a pair of easy to walk in flats instead, and had Gerda shorten the hem of the dress skirt with pins instead. She didn't want to trip and fall on her face in front of the council.

Anna's usual twin braids had been taken out by Gerda earlier that day and pulled up into a hawk braided updo. Her chambermaid fixed the braid tight and stiff so no strands of hair other than her bangs could escape it. Anna could feel the stinging sensation along her scalp every time she fiddled with the mass of pins and bands, but she ignored it, unable to keep her nervous hands off. The hairstyle seemed a little too sharp for Anna's taste, a little too bold. It was something that Elsa could pull off better with her stark-colored hair and sharper facial features. Anna's features were softer, more open with a warm hair color to match, which was why Gerda always gave her looser, more relaxed styles that reflected her fun-loving personality.

However, since Anna was trying to pass herself off as something, hopefully, resembling a proud royal, she figured it wouldn't hurt to borrow fashion tips from an actual queen. Atop her head was a small, diamond tiara. It wasn't Elsa's crown, but Anna felt she should have something shiny on her head to pull the look together. Councilman Baard said she needed to assert herself while Elsa was gone, and while Anna was willing to do that, the princess wasn't ready to take on the kind of authority that would warrant a crown.

If everything worked out the way she desperately hoped it would, then she would never have to.

Kristoff thought Anna looked really pretty, just like she always did. Nothing really changed except her style of dress and hair, but it was still different from what he was used to seeing. Anna succeeded in looking more official and he couldn't help but think it a little unnatural. He hoped these changes weren't permanent.

While Anna remained unwavering in her belief in Elsa's return, Kristoff was on the fence about it. On the one hand, Elsa did have her ice powers, which she had gotten quite good with since the Great Thaw, teaching herself how to use them for both creation and defense. But on the other hand, Elsa and Anna were really sheltered. Both girls could be tough as nails when they needed to be, clever and resourceful, but neither knew what it was like to live outside castle walls for any extended period of time. They never had to interact with normal people on an equal playing field. If Elsa was still alive and free from her captors, Kristoff hoped the queen managed to find some decent-minded people to help her. He and Anna would hold down the fort as long as possible, but the search parties had to be called off a few days ago. The kingdom lacked the resources to keep them going. As of now, it was all on Elsa to find her way back home.

"You're going to do fine," Kristoff pressed as he placed both hands on Anna's shoulders and bent his knees so he could look her in the eyes. "Councilman Baard said this was just going to be a small meeting about things that need to be taken care of around the kingdom. I'm not an expert, but I'd say your best bet is to remain calm, keep your chin up and pretend you know exactly what's going on even if you have no idea. When you come back out, we'll just deal with whatever comes next. Together."

Anna finally met his gaze - _really_ met his gaze for the first time that day, and even though her brow was still knotted and she gnawed on her bottom lip doubtfully, the light in her eyes grew bright again as Kristoff gave her a warm, reassuring smile.

"Okay," she nodded. "Okay, you're right. I can do this. I can totally do this."

Kristoff smiled bigger as he let go of her shoulders. "That's the spirit, babe."

"Yeah, yeah, I totally got this," she laughed, hopping from foot to foot, hyping herself up as she rolled her shoulders to work out imaginary kinks like she was revving up to run a marathon.

"Yes you do."

"I shouldn't let the council psych me out like this. _I'm_ the one in charge, not them!"

"Yes you are."

"What am I so worried about anyways? They're just a bunch of old, wrinkly geezers. How scary can they be?"

"Yeah...maybe not say that so loud."

She balled her hands into fists and started sparring with the air. "I say bring it on! I'll take all of 'em!"

"Okay, calm down," Kristoff laughed, pushing down her raised fists before she could hurt herself. "It's a meeting. Not a cage battle to the death."

Anna begged a serious differ, but before she could argue, the sound of a door opening caught their attention and they turned in tandem to see Kai stepping out into the hall. When he spotted the princess and her fiance standing just outside, he straightened his green waistcoat and fixed his posture so he was standing in his customary stance as head of the castle servants. He cleared his throat and gestured towards the door with a gloved hand.

"Your majesty, the council is ready to start. You may go in now."

The princess thanked the servant and stepped forward.

"Well," she said breathlessly, staring wide-eyed at the double doors in front of her. "Wish me luck!"

"Good luck," Kristoff wished. "I'll be right outside these doors the whole time, waiting for you. Call me if you- well, no you can't, because...you know."

Not possible. Council Baard had already warned them against that. Under no circumstances was anyone to interrupt a council meeting, especially princess Anna's uncouth, ill-bred peasant fiance who the council deeply disapproved of and expressed as much to Elsa many times throughout their engagement. Anna tried not to take offense from it. After all, with the exception of Baard, Anna had a feeling they would have approved of her engagement with Prince Hans, and that spoke volumes just in itself.

She was worried, though, that the subject of Kristoff would come up in the meeting. Elsa had been the one to keep the council at bay initially, doing everything she could to pacify them so they wouldn't ruin her sister's future happiness with the annoying fact that Kristoff wasn't royalty. However, now that Elsa was gone, everything was open for criticism, including Anna's love for Kristoff.

'_Stay focused_,' she coached herself. '_Just listen to what they have to say and be done with it. If Elsa can do it a million times over, then you can do this at least once._'

When she was properly motivated, Anna reached up and gripped one of Kristoff's shoulders, using it as leverage to pull herself up on her toes and give him a swift peck on the cheek.

"Go get 'em," he told her when she pulled back.

Kai opened the door to the meeting chamber and Anna stepped forward, neatly folding her hands in front of her and rolling back her shoulders until her back was straight. She gave a parting nod to her servant as she stepped inside and the door closed quietly behind her with a soft click, cutting her off from the warm atmosphere of the rest of the castle and her beloved. The chamber was vast and dimly lit with the only light source coming from the tall windows lining the left side of the room. Tapestries with basic, uninteresting designs decorated the walls as well as oil portraits of past council members and people Anna vaguely recognized as her ancestors who had been long dead before she was even born. She noted, not sure how to feel about it, that the room lacked a portrait of her parents.

The princess began to walk across the long strip of carpet that ran along the polished floor of the chamber, finally putting to use her new queenly stride that she had been practicing all morning. As she walked, her eyes skimmed over the individuals seated at the other end of the chamber.

The Arendelle council consisted of five members; four men and one woman, all either middle-aged or well into the seasoned years of life. They wore attire complimentary of each other, bland grays and blacks with not much design that Arendelle clothing tended to be recognized for. They were seated behind a tall bench that towered. Anna rehearsed the members' names in her head, reminding herself of their titles and the correct pronunciations of their names. From left to right, it started with the token female, Councilwoman Berdahl (an unremarkable looking woman with gray hair done up in a tight bun and a pinched up face with glasses), followed by Councilman Hegg (the youngest on the board, with a square head and ginger hair with grey around his temples), Councilman Volt (the infamous leader), Councilman Gaustad (grossly overweight with the boil on his nose that she shouldn't stare at) and finally Councilman Baard at the very end.

Anna felt a twinge of comfort at the sight of the portly man, feeling just a bit better that she was already acquainted with one of the council members. She hadn't known him very long, despite him having served on the council for years, but already she felt she could trust him. He had been the only one to address her personally - to actively help her see reason while the other members chose to remain faceless spectators, sitting perched on their high horses and disapproving of how poorly Anna was handling everything. She had barely been in the same room with these people for two minutes and already she could tell only Councilman Baard looked at her like a human being. The rest of them just stared down at her with vacant, belittling stares that made her feel lower than dirt, like she was way of her depth.

She tried to ignore their stares as she approached the small podium facing the council's bench where she had been instructed beforehand to stand behind.

"Gentlemen and lady," Anna greeted with a respectful curtsy, just as she had been instructed to. "Members of the royal council."

"Your majesty," they chorused in acknowledgement.

The head of the council, the man sitting dead center behind the bench, Councilman Volt, adjusted the tiny glasses hanging off the bridge of his long, beak-like nose and cleared his throat in a flawless demand for the room's undivided attention. Anna suppressed the urge to shy away from his sharp gaze, remembering that this was the man who she had been warned to be the most wary of.

The ruthless one, if servant gossip was to be believed.

Volt was just as he had been described to her; a slender man with pale, almost translucent skin, and long, gaunt limbs and spider-like hands covered in age spots and varicose veins that Anna couldn't help but stare at as he readied himself to give the opening statement. She bet he was the kind of person who always had ice cold hands, even in the middle of summer. He was just as scary and emaciated in appearance as he was in personality.

"This emergency session has been convened to address the critical issues presented by the abduction of our ruler, Queen Elsa of Arendelle," he announced. His voice was coarse with age, but rang clear as a bell through Anna's ears. "All in attendance agree that the correspondence of the absence of our queen and the appointed substitution of her rule is the highest responsibility of this council at this particular moment in time. I remind my fellow council members that protocol in such cases has been long established by precedent set down by our predecessors. Are we at an accordance?"

"Hear, hear," chorused the other members in a soft, but stern, echo.

"Good," the head nodded curtly before looking down at the woman below. "Princess Anna, before we begin this meeting, we would all like to formally express our condolences to you. We realize how difficult this must be, having lost your sister so suddenly. We thank you for meeting with us today and I deeply hope we will be able to break ground with many of the vexing issues happening within our kingdom."

A sharp retort arguing that she hadn't _lost_ anything bubbled in Anna's throat, but she forced herself to swallow it. Instead she nodded and breathed a soft, "Thank You", doing her best to pretend, just as they were, that the gesture of sympathy was genuine.

"Now," Volt unraveled the parchment in front of him, reaching for a nearby quill. "On to the first item."

Anna stood at her podium listening as the head of the council listed off the most pressing issues in Arendelle. She did her best to follow along, latching on to every word as he spoke of the ice harvesters' dwindling supplies and the conditions of the roads that ran throughout the kingdom, along with updates on the repairs still being done to the castle garden from the bandit raid and the recuperation of the royal guards who had been injured in said raid. She remained silent when Councilman Volt brought up the proposal of striking up trade again with Weaselton and the Southern Isles - an issue that has been brought up repeatedly and shot down by Elsa since the Great Thaw. Now, though, the argument in favor of it seemed a little more plausible and not wholly ridiculous from a strictly logical standpoint with the absence of the queen.

As Anna listened to Volt toss out problem after problem, some very important while some extremely petty, she started to understand why Elsa was always so stressed when it came to the Arendelle council. Now that her sister was gone, Anna wished she had paid more attention to the many different responsibilities Elsa had to shoulder each and everyday to keep their kingdom in working condition. She never anticipated that her lack of attention when it came to the boring stuff would come back to bite her.

After all, Elsa was always meant to be queen. It was guaranteed from the day she was born. Before that, even. Who could really blame Anna for being blindsided like that? It was a fact that both of them had been well aware of for as long as they could remember and Anna had always been fine with it. Always. She mourned the loss of the close relationship between her and her sister when they were kids, but never once did Anna envy Elsa's role as next in line for the throne.

She looked back on past years with a new perspective and was suddenly six years old again.

~O~

_She was sitting on the edge of Elsa's bed with her hands in her lap and her little legs swinging back and forth, thumping her heels against the blue comforter beneath her. As Gerda fussed over Elsa's hair in front of the vanity table across the room, Anna hummed softly to herself, trying to act well-behaved so she would be allowed to stay inside Elsa's room until her sister had to leave. It was really, really hard sitting so still, especially when she hadn't been this close to Elsa in months and every brain cell in her tiny head screamed for her to jump on the bed and run around the room until her legs hurt while calling out for her sister to join her like the good old days._

_Mama said it was her one chance though, to spend a little time with Elsa before she was whisked away for a very important lesson. It was to be Elsa's very first sit-in at an Arendelle council meeting, and while Anna couldn't understand why Elsa had to sit through a boring meeting between Papa and a bunch of old guys when she wouldn't become queen until a million years from then, everybody was acting like it was the biggest deal since Anna finally learned how to use the potty._

_She didn't think it was that important, but then again it was probably one of those things only Elsa was allowed to know, which was a list that seemed to be growing longer each day. Mama had looked worried when Anna asked her if she could go in Elsa's room and help her get ready for her lesson. It still felt weird to call it "Elsa's Room". Her and Elsa had always shared a room and the transition to separate rooms was more than a little jarring, especially when it came so suddenly and without warning. It had almost been a year since the change and Anna still didn't know why Elsa moved out, or why she had become so distant._

_They hadn't spoken much that day, despite being in the same room for the first time in quite a while. They exchanged silent glances at each other, Anna's hopeful and Elsa's longing and apologetic, but very few words passed between them. The little princess tried to get her sister's attention, commenting on how pretty the new dress Elsa was given for the special occasion was and offering to hold the basket of hair pins for Gerda as the maid braided her sister's hair, but every time Anna even came close to the vanity table, she was shooed away. After about her eighth attempt at being a handy helper only to be pushed away again, Anna let out a defeated sigh and went to sit on Elsa's bed with her chin in her hands._

_While she waited in boredom for Elsa to be finished, another servant came into the room and announced that the meeting would be starting shortly. She brushed him off, her eyes sweeping across the room. When she spotted her and Elsa's dolls hanging out of her sister's toy chest, Anna brightened up. Memories of the silly plays they used to put on during late afternoon playtime flashed inside her head and she felt excitement pulse through her. She hopped off the bed and ran over to the toy chest in the corner of the room (why was there so much dust on it?), throwing open the lid._

_She snatched up the dolls and looked towards Elsa. She held them up with a smile on her lips, but her joy fell away when she saw the expression on her sister's face. She had been too distracted to notice the look of absolute dread that Elsa started giving her reflection in the vanity mirror when the servant gave his announcement. Her blue eyes were wide and her complexion grew paler. __Anna watched her transformation from expressionless to near panic, confused. The dolls slipped from her tiny fingers and fell to the floor. After a few moments, the little girl joined the dolls as she lowered herself to sit on the floor, still watching and trying to understand the series of emotions that flashed across her sister's face._

_She barely noticed the sudden drop in temperature until her mother appeared in the doorway, calling for her. A puff of clouded breath slipped from her lips and Anna's eyes crossed as she looked down the bridge of her nose. Something wiggled away in the back of her mind, a strange thought worming its way towards the forefront of her mind, but before it could make a home there, her mother called for her again with a more stern tone, derailing the train of thought inside her daughter's head. Anna listened to her mother and pulled herself up off the floor._

_On her way out of the bedroom, Anna picked up the doll that looked like Elsa and brought it along with her, leaving the other doll, the one that resembled herself, behind on the floor. Alone._

~O~

She understood more now. Elsa's reaction was the same reaction she herself had this morning when she woke up and remembered what was on the agenda. To say she finally realized how overwhelming the Arendelle council was would be an understatement.

Councilman Volt never asked anything of her. He simply _told_ her what to do. He told her what needed to be done and how they expected her to do it and never bothered to curb his wording in any way. He wasn't outright disrespectful. Oh no, he was nothing but professional. But it was clear he didn't consider himself someone who served under Anna in the slightest. She understood why Volt was the one she needed to worry about. The other members were just lemmings. The council was meant to be a collaboration, but Volt was clearly in charge, running a one-man show with a band of followers.

Anna wondered, if given the chance to think for themselves, would the other members' opinions differ? Or would they all still be giving her the third degree?

"Your Highness, are you paying attention?"

Anna's gaze snapped upwards when Volt's voice suddenly cut through her thoughts. He stared down at her in scorn and she realized she must have spaced out while he was speaking. She wanted to be honest and say not in the slightest, but what little self-preservation she still had made her instead respond with:

"Of course, Councilman Volt. You have my full attention."

He sniffed contemptuously at her, seeing through the lie. "Princess Anna, it would be in your own self interest to take this meeting seriously. We are here to serve the royal family, just as we have always done. With all due respect, I don't believe you quite understand the power that has been bestowed upon you. We must insure every decision you make will benefit Arendelle. We cannot help you if you do not pay attention to the advice we are trying to give you."

Anna bit her tongue. Hard. "Yes, I understand."

Volt gave her a dubious look but raised his parchment again. "Which brings me to our next item. The citizens of Arendelle are starting to become restless with our kingdom's lack of ruler. With news of Queen Elsa's abduction no doubt reaching far beyond our walls by now, there is concern that other kingdoms might take advantage of this weakness and attempt to infringe on our territory. As of late, there has been no evidence to suggest there is any real threat behind these concerns. Several of our allies have expressed their condolences and have given formal statements offering their support should it be needed in these rough times.

However, we should remain vigilant. Just because we have yet to be approached by any hostile forces, does not mean there still is not a possibility another attack could happen. Arendelle has always been a peaceful kingdom, but we are also a prosperous one and if we are to remain that way, we must work to repair the damage done by the bandits, who we still have no new information on at this point. Unfortunately."

Volt looked down at Anna, waiting for the princess to either agree or disagree. Anna replied with an accepting nod from him to continue.

Yes, yes she was still paying attention, thank you very much.

"That being said, your highness, I propose we move ahead with the wedding and double the event with your coronation as the new queen of Arendelle. Granted, I am afraid we still are not entirely happy with your choice in suitor, but in light of recent events, your kingdom will need all the leadership it can get and there simply is not time to find you a more appropriate-"

Anna choked out a sound, cutting off Volt, and held up a hand pleadingly in a stop motion.

"I'm sorry, Councilman. I'm sorry- I just need- we need to rewind a little because I got a bit lost for a second there."

"Problem, your highness?" Volt questioned, not at all pleased with her interruption but at least had the decency to pretend he was willing to hear her thoughts on the matter.

She nodded her head with a pained expression. She bit her lip to stop herself from voicing the frantic thoughts now buzzing anew in her head. "No one - no one said _anything_ about a coronation. Also I thought it had already been established that my wedding would be postponed until Elsa came back."

An exhale of frustration sounded out from four of the five council members as the bench suddenly became restless and hushed comments were exchanged between members. Volt's frown deepened at this and he lowered his parchment, the pupils of his needle eyes narrowing.

"Well, this is quite irksome then," he replied, taut. "We were under the impression Councilman Baard had already spoken to you about this."

The man in question felt himself go a little pale when Volt turned his head and casted a long, piercing look down the bench at him. He squirmed in his seat when he felt the others turn their eyes towards him also and Baard found himself the center of attention.

"Now-" he cleared his throat against the sudden tightness. "Now, I believe there has been a bit of a misconception here."

"Enlighten us then," Volt deadpanned. He put his quill back into the ink pot and placed his hands on the bench in front of him, webbing his long, bony fingers together, waiting for his fellow member to continue.

"Upon my return from meeting with her highness, Princess Anna, I relayed much of what we were already aware of. She was still upset about what happened and was reluctant to see me, but I was able to plead our case that Arendelle needed a leader. She wasn't...particularly receptive to the news, but I parted with the hope that my words would be properly considered later on at better time for reflection. I was relieved when a few days later, she and Master Bjorgman came to me with the desire to schedule a meeting with the rest of the council. I believe perhaps this is where the confusion happened. Princess Anna saw this meeting as a discussion about what she can do to help Arendelle as a temporary stand-in for Queen Elsa while you and the other members saw it as her acceptance to take her sister's place indefinitely."

"Well of course we saw it like that," Councilman Hegg spoke up for the first time, his square jaw moving up and down as if on hinges. "I thought we were done with this wishful thinking."

"Arendelle needs a ruler," Councilwoman Berdahl added in. "That is the most important thing. None of us want to think the worst, but we cannot let false hope blind us."

"I agree," Councilman Gaustad nodded, throwing in his own two cents. "A coronation is what the people need to see. They need to know we are still a strong, unified kingdom. Those bandits may have stolen our queen and ruined what was meant to be a joyful event, but we will not allow them to destroy anything else. Queen Elsa may be gone, but her spirit still lives in her kingdom and her people."

Berdahl and Hegg nodded in agreement, impressed by Gaustad's vehement claim while Baard looked on with a nervous expression on his face. Volt remained silent throughout, watching the sudden lively shift in discussion with an unreadable expression, his hands still tucked together.

"No!" Anna shouted. The heads of the council all snapped forward to stare at the fuming princess below them. She regarded them all with a disgusted glare as her patience finally ran out. "It's ridiculous how our kidnapped queen is only an inconvenience to you people! Elsa is _not_ dead so _stop_ talking like she is! We don't know anything yet!"

"Indeed we do not, your highness, and it is high time you start considering other possibilities, however unpleasant they may be," Councilman Gaustad pointed out in a frustratingly condescending way.

"And what possibilities might those be?" she snapped. "That no one in this entire kingdom has any patience or any faith in their ruler? That my sister means nothing now that she can't serve as queen and you're perfectly happy with just crowning a new replacement because it's easier than believing she might still come back?"

Councilman Gaustad looked affronted, shocked by Anna's boldness, but before he could argue back he was interrupted.

"The possibility is that we may _never_ know what has become of Queen Elsa," Volt spoke up, bringing his hand down firmly on the bench, causing a solid bang to cut off all other discussion. The hollow sound echoed through the chamber and clanked around in Anna's ears, making her want to cover them with her hands and turn away from the council (La, la, la, I can't here you so this really isn't happening!).

She stared up at him, wide-eyed. "What?"

"This is not a question of faith, your highness," Volt stared down at her, gaze intense. "Believe all you wish, we cannot stop you from hoping for your sister's return, but keep in mind what little we know of Queen Elsa's abduction. We know nothing of the bandit group who took her, _why_ they took her and _where_ they took her. Faith is nothing when pitted against cold, hard facts, and those, your highness, are the facts."

Anna stared down at her hands as Volt spoke. They were balled into fists, her knuckles turning a ghostly white as she practically shivered with bottled up emotion and her eyes stung with unshed tears. Her nails bit into her palms, but her mind failed to register the pain.

"No," she almost whispered, shaking her head. She took a deep, shuddering breath before raising her head to lock eyes with Volt. "I know the odds are against me and my sister. I know with each passing day it becomes less and less likely she'll come back. But are you all really so black in the heart you can't see why I can't give up hope? She's my sister. Sisters don't give up on each other. I didn't give up when Elsa flipped out and ran away from home. I didn't give up when she froze my heart and threw me out of her ice castle. I didn't give up when Prince Hans locked me in a room and left me to die. Things looked dark and hopeless then, too. But everything still turned out okay in the end. Everything worked out because I kept pushing forward and refused to stop believing good things will happen if I stay strong. It may be pointless to you to hope for such things, but I isn't to me!"

Silence rang through the chamber as the Arendelle council watched their princess pour her heart out. She ignored their varied looks of pity, surprise and contempt. She reached deep inside herself and pulled out what little confidence and optimism she still had left to give.

"So no. There will be no wedding and there will be no coronation because I am not supposed to be queen," she declared around a sniffle. "However, I'll do my best to serve Arendelle until the rightful queen returns. _I_ will take on Elsa's responsibilities, all of them. Not any of you. That is my job now. Just give me your stupid list and I will do every single thing on it so everybody can go back to be happy and ignorant and I can finally wait for my sister to come home in peace!"

The members of the council were shocked at the young princess' tenacity, with the exception of Councilman Baard who hid the smirk fighting its way on his face behind a quiet, tactful cough into his fist. Berdahl, Hegg and Gaustad exchanged glances, unsure of how to proceed. Volt, however, looked deeply unimpressed by Anna's outburst. The princess resisted the powerful urge to stick her tongue out at him.

"Now," Anna continued. She brushed off the front of her dress and folded her hands in front of her. "If that is all, I declare this meeting adjourned. Ladies and gentlemen of the council, I bid you a good afternoon."

"This is not over, young lady," Councilman Volt said. "Your outburst was disrespectful and undignified. Your sister would have never acted in such a way."

"Don't bother comparing me to my sister. I'm not Elsa and I will never be her, so if you're waiting for me to take the throne and continue ruling things like she did, then you're going to be waiting for a very long time, Councilman. However, that doesn't change the fact that I'm still in charge until she comes back. I'm the spare and this is how the spare is going to run things. Leave whatever pointless tasks you want me to do with Kai and I'll get to them tomorrow."

She gave them a parting bow before turning on her heel and stepping down from the podium.

"Your highness," Volt called out. "If you continue this disruptive behavior, you will not have the support of the council behind you."

"Big whoop!" She called back as she opened the chamber doors and closed them behind her with enough force to rattle the hinges.

Kristoff jumped at the sound of the doors slamming. He had been leaning against the wall next to the chamber doors, staring off into space. He scrambled to remain upright when he almost lost his footing against the polished floor. He used his hands to steady himself as he looked up and saw his fiance practically stomp out of the room. He called out her name but Anna ignored him in favor of storming out of the hall with a huff. Kristoff took off after her.

"How- how'd it go?" he asked warily, eyeing her as he jogged to catch up. She was mumbling angrily under her breath with her hands still clenched into fists. "Anna? How was the meeting?"

"_Fine_," she growled.

"You sure? You weren't in there very long."

She let out a snort. "I guess they didn't have that much to say after all."

"Oh...okay then. Do you want to go to the kitchen? Lunch is almost ready."

"No, I'm going to my room. I need to be alone right now."

She left Kristoff behind in one of the many hallways of the castle as she made straight for her bedroom. She opened the door and slipped inside before closing it firmly behind her. Her back met the hard wood of her door as she leaned against and slowly slid down to the ground with a heavy sigh. A replay of the council meeting went off in her head as she drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs.

Despite how mean and nasty Councilman Volt was to her, Anna was willing to admit she had lost her temper. It was difficult not to when everyone in the room was basically saying Elsa was as good as dead and they needed to move on. She may have mucked up the approach, but the council deserved every single word she said to them.

Still though, she might have jumped the gun a bit. She knew what this meant for her. She knew that her almost nonexistent workload was about to get a swift kick in the hide with all the responsibilities she had just promised to take on in her most recent protest against Elsa being a lost cause. She knew she had just bitten off more than what she could probably chew, but there really wasn't much else she could do. If the citizens of Arendelle were really starting to worry that they would be attacked again, then it was only a matter of time before Anna was pressured into doing something she really didn't want to do. The only solution she could think of at the time was to show everyone that she could run Arendelle just fine as a substitute.

At first, Anna didn't believe she could pull something like that off considering how grossly unqualified she was, but now...things have changed. Despite Volt's attempts at cutting her down and making her feel small so she would be more compliant to his preferred way of doing things, Anna had never felt more empowered in her life. In the wake of her first meeting with the infamous Arendelle council, the princess felt her grim situation shine just a tiny bit brighter when she realized she had yet again overcome a feat she had previously believed impossible for her to take on.

So what if the meeting didn't go very well? At least it was a good step in the right direction.

* * *

**AN: I don't like how the movie makes it seem like Elsa NEVER left her room. She had to have left her room at some point. Perhaps not very often, but at least for lessons, functions or family meals. **

**Also, to those of you who found the last chapter to be a little boring, keep in mind it consisted of about 90% character backstory, which isn't always the most riveting scenes to read (or write). I thought about doing flashbacks, but considering how long Logan's backstory ended up being, that would have extended over more than one chapter which I didn't want. Logan's history with the bandits is important to the plot, but I didn't want it to take too much focus from his and Elsa's journey. ****I warned you guys beforehand that I can be a wordy writer. I do try to trim it down sometimes and I always try to keep things interesting to make up for that fact, but sometimes in order to further the plot, action needs to take a backseat to important story development.**

**On an unrelated note, don't forget to send out hope and happy thoughts to Paris and the victims of the recent shootings! I hope such a tragedy hasn't personally affected any of my readers.**

**~Scorpiofreak~ **


	12. Ambushed Pt 1

**AN: Special thanks to everybody who reviewed last chapter. I really appreciate it! ****We're in for an exciting one, kiddies! I originally wanted to post this on Christmas, but as you will see there is a lot of plot development in this chapter. I decided not to set a deadline and just take my time with it. Sorry that the update went over my standard updating schedule. Usually if I go over my deadline it means the update is going to be a long one. In fact, this chapter was SO ridiculously long, I had to break it up into two parts.**

**Warnings: Mild language, violence (but nothing too graphic)**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (10/20/16)**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or its characters.**

* * *

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have been so goddamn stupid?

He had walked them right into a trap, an ambush. He should have known this would happen, should have seen it coming a mile off. It had been too quiet for too long. Stealth and subtlety weren't Dag's forte, never have been. Logan should have anticipated the man would do something like this, lay a viscous trap and wait for his prey to get themselves tangled up in it like the venomous spider he was. He and his gang must have been squatting in this area for some time for them to be able to box Logan and Elsa in from so many angles, heading them off at every turn and blocking their escape. The bulk of the gang must have been ahead of them this whole time, not hanging back like Logan assumed. Dag must have had his foot soldiers hang back, had them search for signs of Logan and Elsa while the rest of the gang moved forward so they could head the two off when the opportunity came. That was why Joaquin had been waiting for Logan back on that trail.

How stupid of the ex-bandit not to have realized that sooner, especially since he used to participate in similar maneuvers such like this back in the day and personally knew most of the players involved. He could only hope his mistake wouldn't get the both of them killed.

Logan's hold on Elsa's hand remained firm as he led them through the forest, weaving through trees and jumping over roots. He didn't have much of a sense of direction to work from. Once they shook the pursuing bandits off their trail, he could gather his bearings. The moment they were in now was meant only for fleeing. Abandoning a sinking ship. Running like the devil was biting at their heels because as far as Logan was concerned, _he was_. There was no one who better resembled the devil than Dag, and being under his command had been hell on earth.

It was embarrassing, really. That Logan's ol' stomping buddies went virtually undetected by him until the last possible second before they were practically raining down around his and Elsa's ears.

~O~

_"I spy, with my little eye something...green."_

_"Is it a bush?"_

_"Yes! You got it again," Logan beamed, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm. "You are so good at this game!"_

_"Oh stop it," Elsa replied, waving him off girlishly with just as much sarcasm._

_They laughed at their silliness as they traveled almost leisurely on horseback. They had been on the road for almost three days now, having yet to come across another village or town worth stopping in. Things had come to a slow lull, forcing the two of them to find means of entertainment before boredom and irritability had them clawing at each others throats, like yesterday._

_The weather was still holding up, but those early morning chills grew longer and lingered well into the afternoon. The cold burrowed deep into hard bone, signifying the world around them was beginning to freeze. It wouldn't be long before flurries of snow blew in and coated everything in that fine, white powder. Logan could only hope that an early appearance of snow wasn't a harbinger for a rough winter season further down the road. He didn't think this little field trip would extend into December, when the big snowstorms tended to hit, but one should always leave slack for unexpected delays._

_Logan reached into one of his packs hanging off his horse's saddle and pulled out their map._

_"I think we should stop for a while," he announced, pointing to a faint mark on the map. "There's a river close by. The horses can rest and we can refill on water. This map looks outdated and I'm not sure when we'll come up on another town, so we might as well fill up when we have the chance. Dusk still isn't for another couple of hours."_

_"Are we sleeping rough again tonight?" Elsa asked as she watched Logan fold up the map._

_"Looks like it," he replied around a sigh, not feeling any more excited about that fact than she was._

_After so many days of sleeping on forest floor, Elsa had gotten used to the discomfort and it became just tolerable enough to withstand, but the queen still relished the rare occasions when they were able to find a cheap inn to stay at. She had no idea where Logan found the money to afford the inns. She suspected he was stealing it in the markets they frequented for supplies, pick-pocketing unsuspecting patrons whenever he would briefly slip from her view and then return with just enough coins to get them what they needed, even when she could have sworn they were flat broke only seconds before. It didn't bother her as much as it should have. A few instances of thievery on Logan's part, and turning a blind-eye on Elsa's, was certainly better than sleeping in the gutters or running out of food._

_Logan jumped down from his horse while she followed suit at a more careful pace, mindful of her skirts, and they walked their horses off the path. When they reached a big enough clearing along the riverbank, the horses went for the water as soon as their reigns were released. For the past couple of miles their path had taken on a lot of incline and it had only recently leveled out. Logan suspected there was a waterfall nearby, but couldn't know for sure because there wasn't one marked on their crappy map. He would have to pick up a new one next time they stopped at a market._

_While he took stock of their supplies, making sure they weren't running low, Elsa walked over to the river and knelt down next. As she examined her slightly distorted reflection in the water, she slipped off her gloves to let the skin of her hands breathe a little._

_With how uneventful things had been lately, her ice powers felt far away and the lack of stress left her feeling less self-conscious about taking her gloves off with Logan nearby. She even felt controlled enough to dip her hands into the river, confident she wouldn't freeze it. She ran her wet fingers through her hair, combing back her bangs and working the kinks out of the looser strands that weren't twisted up in her braid. _

_As she and Logan fell into a peaceful silence, the bare branches of the trees around them began to rattle as a strong breeze swept over their little clearing, bringing along a familiar odor. Elsa's nose twisted up in disgust when it brushed past her. She brought up one of her hands to hold her nose closed, blocking out the smell._

_"Yuck. There's that weird smell again."_

_For the past few miles there had been a strange smell in the air that seemed to follow her and Logan around. It wasn't a rancid smell that made Elsa want to gag and lose her lunch, but it did offend her nose rather unpleasantly and was sure to give her a splitting headache if it kept wafting over them every time the breeze picked up. It was a weird smell that was kind of familiar to her somehow but was so far impossible for her to place. It smelled like rotting sweetness. Sour and spoiled, but with a saccharine undertone. A bizarre combination that left her wondering where on earth it was coming from._

_"It'll go away," Logan assured her without looking up from what he was doing._

_"I hope so," she replied, her voice a little nasally because of the fingers holding her nose._

_When the breeze died down again and the smell passed, Elsa released her nose with a sigh and went back to running her fingers through her hair._

_The act felt age-old to her, soothing in its familiarity. She knew that this was the last situation where vanity should be an issue, but she still felt the need to hang on to those habits, to fix her hair whenever she passed a reflective surface, to drape her clothing over a chair or hang them on a hook at night so they wouldn't be wrinkled in the morning, to check her teeth after eating to avoid embarrassing smiles. They were instinctual things, regardless of how silly doing them made her look sometimes, and they helped Elsa hang on to something important; sense of self. She even hummed a little as she did it._

_It was comfortable and Elsa felt herself drifting away with the sounds of the babbling river, Logan moving around somewhere behind her, and the sound of her own voice humming the soft song she used to hear Anna sing to her through her bedroom door as children. There was no telling how long ago the noises behind her stopped before she finally realized how quiet it had become. Thinking Logan must have walked off somewhere, she threw a glance over her shoulder, only to jump a little when she saw that he was still there with her._

_He was still standing by their horses, his hands paused in the mid-motion of untying one of their packs from the saddle as he looked over his arm at Elsa sitting by the riverbank. His expression was unreadable as he watched her. He didn't look away when their gazes locked. Not right away. His stare held on to hers for at least a whole five seconds before he finally broke it, going back to the saddle._

_An oddly satisfied smile came across Elsa's face after he turned away. She had caught him looking at her, observing her in a way that was a little less than clinical detachment, and a little more like attraction. And something about that pleased her._

_With the little smile still on her face, she turned back to the river. She was just about to slip her gloves back on when she noticed something floating in the water from the corner of her eye. At first she thought it was a red ball, bobbing down the river towards her, but as it drifted closer she realized it was actually an apple. A lone red apple, floating down the river._

_She watched the apple float closer until curiosity got the better of her. She leaned as far as she could over the water without falling in, her fingertips wiggling ever so slightly to snag just the tiniest grip on the apple's stem so she could fish it out of the water. When she finally got a good enough hold, she sat back on her ankles and examined her prize. It was shiny and red, perfectly ripe and no doubt sweet and delicious in taste. The queen knew a thing or two about apples and she couldn't help but admire just how good it looked, like a piece of art almost._

_She did find it odd though, that there was just one apple floating down the river._

_Despite the strangeness she smiled a little at her reflection in the apple. A bittersweet spell of nostalgia clouded her mind with memories of her mother. She remembered crispy fall afternoons, much like the one today, when she and Anna were younger and they would play in the castle garden together. They would run around and jump into the piles of multicolored leaves that littered the ground with their hands tightly intertwined, undoing the caretaker's hard work in a few epic leaps until their mother would call them back inside, beckoning her girls to join her in the kitchen where baskets of deliciously ripe apples awaited them._

_The former queen of Arendelle wasn't much of a homemaker, raised by royalty just as her mother before, but she loved to bake. It was her favorite hobby. She loved apples and had a penchant for making desserts, apple pies being her favorite. Elsa looked back fondly on her mother's favorite time of year, apple harvesting season, and how she would have dozens of apples imported from the countryside so her and her princesses could spend the day baking goodies in the kitchen. Her mother loved autumn and the transition it brought to the world around them, unbothered by the approaching cold like others. Most only saw it as a precursor to the season of death and stagnation, but the queen chose to look it as the necessary period where everything was preparing to be laid to rest until Spring. Tucked away safely in the warm ground until it was time to be reborn again._

_Still giving the apple a curious look, Elsa pulled herself to her feet and walked over to where Logan was crouched by their packs._

_"Logan, look at this," she held out the apple so it was resting neatly in her palm._

_He looked up from their supplies and studied the presented fruit. One of his eyebrows cocked upwards curiously into the loose hair hanging against his forehead as he drew himself back to full height. Elsa took a step back to better accommodate his height so she wouldn't have to crane her head back awkwardly to look him in the eyes, a move that was slowly becoming an unconscious habit._

_"Where'd you get that?" he asked._

_"I found it floating in the river."_

_"Really? Just the one?"_

_"Strange, right? It was just floating all by itself. I wonder where-"_

_Her heart lept into her throat when the apple suddenly exploded in her hand, splattering mush on both her and Logan._

_The ex-bandit let out a surprised curse as he brought up an arm to wipe away the bits of apple on his face. Elsa stood there dumbstruck, staring down at her now empty hand with confusion, thrown by the disappearing act. She looked at the tree they were standing next to and found what was left of her apple splattered against the bark of the tree with its mushy core pinned in place by an arrow._

_"What-" she started but was cut off by Logan._

_"Get down!"_

_The air in her lungs rushed out when Logan threw his weight on to her, knocking her off her feet and bringing them both to the ground just as another arrow came sailing in their direction and embedded itself in the tree, just above the first. Elsa's hands gripped his shoulders as she found herself falling backwards. She braced for impact, but Logan had dived into his impromptu takedown with a turn so he would take the blunt of the tackle on his side while bringing up a hand to cradle the back of her head. They landed hard on the ground with a dual "oof!" that left them both stunned, her a little longer than him. _

_Logan released his hold on her waist and let out another curse, making Elsa look up in a mild daze to see him clutching his arm. The gray material beneath his fingers blossomed a dark red from the cut the arrow made when it grazed his arm. The queen barely had time to process what had happened before Logan stood up and reached down to practically drag her to her feet. She stumbled with a shocked cry, but his hold remained solid as he pulled her along, shouting at her that they needed to "go, go, go!" as more arrows flew in their direction._

_When she finally managed to find her footing, Logan grabbed her bare hand while snatching up the closest supply pack he could reach and ran past their panicking horses without a second glance, knowing they would have no time to mount them. He hauled the pack on to his shoulder and took off into the forest with his hand still latched on to Elsa's as all hell broke loose around them._

~O~

'_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_' Logan chanted in his head. '_You walked right into this one, didn't you, genius?_'

Distantly he heard the sound of Joaquin's accented voice, shouting.

_"Stop shooting, idiots! You'll hit the girl!"_

Logan ignored the arrows being shot at them. There was no point in stopping to dodge them if they were just going to be caught anyways. They could only hope they wouldn't be hit. Luck seemed to be on their side, because other than that second arrow that nicked his arm back at camp, their attackers' aim was just as lousy now as it was when he was a bandit. The cut on his arm stung like crazy, but he pushed the pain away, choosing to acknowledge it later when they weren't in immediate danger, but it would become a problem if "later" didn't come soon enough. It was a small cut, but that hardly mattered. The size and depth of an injury never mattered when it came to Logan. If it bled, it all ended the same way. Poorly.

It was a small relief when he realized he and Elsa were putting more distance between them and the bandits. Granted, they couldn't keep running like this forever, or even for much longer. Eventually they would get too tired to run. He could already feel Elsa lagging behind through the growing strain on their connected hands.

There was no way he was letting her go. Logically, he knew it would be in his own best interest if he did. After all, Dag needed Elsa alive, not Logan. He probably wouldn't last the rest of the day if they were caught, especially since Dag was a big grudge-holder. But then again, just because Dag wanted Elsa alive, didn't necessarily mean he was going to keep her whole and unscathed. Alive and functional could mean a lot of things, and while Logan would probably be killed, Elsa would be the one who would suffer, facing a fate worse than death.

So no, he wasn't letting go. To hell with how detrimental it was to his health. He had done stupider things with less purpose than this in the past. They would go as far as they could and he would think of a new plan when their current one ran its course. It wasn't exactly foolproof, but it was all he had.

That time came much sooner than anticipated, though. Only after a few more minutes of running, they were forced to a sudden stop when a very large, very intimidating, bandit stepped out from a cluster of bushes just ahead.

Elsa gasped at the size of the bandit blocking their path. He was huge, like a mountain, and built like one too. He was probably the biggest man she had ever seen, right around the same size as Oaken, the trading post and sauna merchant back in Arendelle. He would have fit in perfectly with the kind of ice harvesters Kristoff ran around with. She briefly considered the ludicrous idea of offering him a job if he let her and Logan go.

"Oh wow," Logan breathed, eyeing the brick wall in front of them. "You're new."

The bandit said nothing as he reached for them. Logan dodged the hand, pushing Elsa backwards and out of the way before rolling to the side.

"Look at the size of this guy's hands!" he said around a breathless, disbelieving laugh. "They're almost as big as my head!"

"Logan!" Elsa called out when she looked behind them and realized the other bandits were catching up. "We're going to be surrounded!"

"Run then!" He demanded, fixing the large bandit in front of him with a determined look, falling into a defensive stance. "Run while I distract Big Ben here! I'll catch up to you later!"

Elsa opened her mouth to protest, but Logan was already launching himself towards his opponent. She stood rooted in her spot as she watched the two men fight. The large bandit definitely had size and brawn on his side, but Logan had speed and agility, and that allowed him to easily dodge any attacks thrown his way. It was almost like watching someone swat at a fly with how flawless Logan moved about the bandit. Eventually though, the bandit was able to get a hold on one of Logan's arms when the smaller man stumbled out of an ill-timed barrel roll, hoisting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing and throwing him bodily into a tree.

Logan's back impacted with the trunk, drawing out a strangled groan as the wind was violently knocked out of him.

"Not good," he wheezed out, clutching his ribs.

He tried to climb to his feet, but a searing pain in the back of his head had him stumbling forward before falling flat on his front. He moved to push himself up again so he was on all fours, but his vision began to blur and he fell on his stomach again. This time going completely limp against the ground.

"Logan!" Elsa cried out and ran to his side as soon as the giant bandit stepped away.

Her hands touched on his back, trying to rouse him with a desperate shake just as the foliage around them shook and Joaquin and the rest of his group arrived on the scene.

The Spaniard walked over to where Logan was laying prone on the ground, forcing Elsa to move back on her feet and stepping backwards as he approached. He used the toe of his boot to prod Logan in the ribs, checking to see if he would react. When Logan didn't move, Joaquin shook his head and mumbled something under his breath in Spanish before turning towards Elsa with a sudden friendly smile on his face. One that was obviously meant to be disarming, but only made her want to bolt even more.

"Hello, your highness," he greeted her with an air of courtesy that she almost believed was genuine as he stepped over Logan. "I apologize for the violence. I wish this could've gone more peaceful, but I'm sure you've realized by now that our _amigo_ here can't resist making things difficult. I also apologize for the arrows. I hope you weren't hurt."

He didn't give Elsa the chance to reply as he motioned for his men to grab her. She stepped back, her eyes darting to the trees around her, searching for an exit.

"Please," Joaquin stressed, looking at her with a warning in his brown eyes. "There is nowhere left to run. You are coming with us now. Though valuable to our leader, you are still a lady and I'd really rather not use force. Don't be a fool like Logan. It'll only get you hurt."

The two bandits inched their way towards Elsa with their hands raised in front of them, in case the queen decided to go out fighting and impaled them on ice spikes. Though she was certainly tempted, she wasn't going to do that, not when there was still a chance for escape. Despite the warning, she took a few steps back as they advanced on her. She shot a nervous glance down at Logan, hoping to find him awake again and ready to fight their way out of trouble like last time.

"Oh don't worry," Joaquin smirked, catching Elsa's look. "He's coming too."

The Oaken-sized bandit who knocked out Logan stepped forward with a silent command from Joaquin. Her guide didn't struggle as the bandit picked him up and threw him over his shoulder like a ragdoll. The queen couldn't tell if he was playing possum, or if he really was out cold, but either way it was safe to officially consider herself the bandits' prisoners once more.

"Where are you taking us?" Elsa demanded in a voice she knew didn't sound as defiant as she wanted it to.

Her question went unanswered as the bandits took them further into the forest. She risked a glance at the bandits holding her arms, giving each of their hooded features a quick once-over before deciding there was no escaping them as she was; untrained and unwilling to use her ice powers. Their gloved hands gripped her arms hard and each time she tried to squirm away their grips would only tighten. They didn't outright threaten her, but they didn't need to. The only course of action she could think of right now was to run, and since that wasn't in the cards, she was at an impasse.

A noise from Logan drew her eyes forward. She watched as he began to show signs of life again, waking up from whatever oblivious void the walking oak tree had knocked him into.

"Jesus Christ, my everything hurts," he groaned, reaching up a hand to rub his eyes before freezing in mid-action when his other senses came back and he realized the position he was in. He squirmed in the bandit's hold, trying to brace his hands on the behemoth's back so he could look over his shoulder. "Oh my god, is this guy carrying me like a sack of potatoes? What a freak. Where the hell did you find him?"

"Quiet, _burro_," Joaquin hissed from his position at point. "You and the _joya_ are caught. Game's over now."

Logan opened his mouth to retort, but one rough shake from the giant knocked the ex-bandit back into silence. His face twisted up in a frustrated scowl as his body fell limp against the giant's shoulder again. He briefly considered kneeing his captor in the jaw out of pure spite, but abandoned the idea when he looked up and saw Elsa and her captors trailing not far behind him. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from reacting.

She gave him a pleading look that begged, '_What are we going to do now?_'

He gave her a reassuring smile, doing his best to comfort her without provoking the bandits flanking her sides. His hazel eyes bore intensely into hers, giving her a look that responded confidently with, '_Don't worry. I'll get us out of this_'.

Or at least that was what she hoped it said. He had the courage to look her in the eye, so even if it turned out they were heading straight for their gruesome deaths, then at least he was merciful enough not to burden her with the knowledge of it.

The rest of the journey to wherever they were being taken, presumably their camp, was spent in silence. The sky was beginning to darken with warm colors along the horizon as dusk slowly approached. If Elsa had to guess how long they had been walking, she would say at least twenty minutes and each step forward became harder to bare. She had no idea what awaited her and her guide at the end of this hike and it felt like she was taking that final walk to the gallows. Her skin stung with the sensation of her powers mounting beneath and she cursed herself for leaving behind her gloves.

It was towards the end that the weird smell from earlier flared up again, only this time it was the strongest it had ever been and it didn't go away with the wind. When they reached a break in the trees that overlooked a large, red building, the mystery behind the smell was finally revealed and Elsa cursed herself for not realizing what it was earlier.

It was apples. A lot of apples. They littered the ground in large piles, surrounding an old building that had to be a factory. She wanted to say it was an apple orchard, but the location was all wrong. Apple orchards were supposed to be in the country, with wide fields of flat land for the apple trees to grow en masse, not in a heavily rural area like this. And yet here they were, coming up on a building with factory equipment and a storage silo that stored a whole forest worth of apples and apples only. It must have been some sort of middleman establishment. It looked abandoned, with the exception of Dag and his bandits. The apples were left unattended, laying scattered across the grounds in an array of reds and greens, and judging by the smell, they were beginning to rot.

Elsa wondered if it was empty of workers because the harvest season for apples was over, or if the bandits had chased them all out and claimed the building as their own. The latter sounded more likely considering this was a tremendous waste of perfectly good produce.

No actual apple trees, she noted as they drew closer to the building. So a distributor, then. A faux orchard. They imported apples from the countryside and sold them to local towns and villages who couldn't get them otherwise. Interesting, but irrelevant. It didn't matter what the building was. It didn't influence the fact that once she and Logan were taken inside, there was a chance they wouldn't make it back out. She only wished it wasn't apples. Why did it have to be _apples_? Apples were always something she associated her mother with. Some of her best memories were with her mother, Queen Iduna, baking apple pies in the castle kitchen. Dag had to ruin that for her too, didn't he?

She had previously taken a little comfort in knowing that none of this was personal, not on Dag's end. Bandits took whatever they thought had substantial value. But it was things like this that made her think it was.

When they reached the entrance of the orchard house, Joaquin walked up to the metal door and banged his fist on it twice, making it rattle loudly before he let out a sharp whistle through his teeth. Seconds later, the door moved on its track, sliding open to allow them to enter. It produced a shrill grinding sound of rusted metal. Elsa felt another wave of dread wash over her as they moved inside. She looked up at the looming building threatening to swallow them and saw a picture of a big red apple painted above the door, faded and chipped from weather and time. She wondered if that was going to be the last thing she saw of the outside world. They pulled her inside and the door slid shut behind them with a condemning slam.

Elsa jumped at the sound. The two bandits manning the door joined their little group once they secured the door. No words were exchanged and the deafening silence continued as they moved through the orchard house. The ground underneath her boots was slippery with rotted apple mush. Crates of spare machinery parts and barrels of apples cluttered up most of the corridors, making it difficult to move through them without knocking into anything. As if the worn out gas lamps lining the walls didn't make that difficult enough already.

As they walked through the dusty hallways, flashes of childhood afternoons spent in the castle kitchen ran through Elsa's head. Memories of peeling fresh apples until they were bare, the spicy smell of freshly ground cinnamon tickling her nose, her and Anna's little hands covered in chalky flour as they pressed their fingers into malleable dough and their mother standing behind them, gently instructing them in how to properly roll and press the dough with her hands rested on their shoulders.

Her surroundings shifted in time with her memories. Conveyor belts filled with apples and dirty water turned into polished counter tops covered with cooking ingredients, thrown haphazardly about by a couple of messy bakers. Rafters with cobwebs turned into bright colored tiled walls while a rusted, broken down furnace turned into a big, lofty oven with golden brown pies baking inside. A young Anna was sitting on the floor in front of the oven, her little legs tucked underneath her as she watched the pies bake through the small window with hungry eyes.

If she and Logan lived through this, Elsa would never be able look at apples the same again. She would never be able to look back on her fondest memories of her mother without cringing, without picturing this abandoned orchard house right after, and Elsa felt herself hating Dag for the first time. _Truly_ hating him. She had always feared him, feared what he could do to her sister and her kingdom, but she hadn't fully acknowledged what he had done to her and how she felt about it until that moment.

And she _hated_ him. He was the devil.

And the devil appears when spoken of. She could see him now. He was there, waiting for them, on the other side of the main room of the orchard house. He stood there still as stone, with his blood red hood drawn up over his head and his scarf curled around the bottom half of his face.

Logan had told Elsa more about Dag after he revealed his past with the bandit leader. Not very much, but enough bits and pieces that allowed the queen to put together a vague picture of how Dag was before the fire that left him badly scarred, both physically and psychologically. Before the incident, Logan said that Dag had already been an off-putting kind of person, with his morbid personality and unsettling mannerisms. He tended to raise your hackles without reason other than that he gave off an aura that had a distinct _wrong_ feel to it. And his unsettling appearance did nothing to soften that blow his character dealt anyone unfortunate enough to approach him.

He had been a pale man of average height and build with fair blonde hair that looked nearly as white as his skin, almost like Elsa's, and dark brown eyes that were closer to pitch black than anything else. His stare was brutal. It was blunt and sharp at the same time, enough to cut through another person like an axe with questionable intent.

Nobody really knew how Barley and Dag came to be partners. Barley had never disclosed that information with Logan and Dag was about as sociable as a rock. All that anybody knew from the original clan was that Dag had always been there. He was always within view, always within earshot of just about everything that went on within the group, and sometimes even out of it. He moved about clan life like a ghost, a silent spectre who watched from the sidelines until something interesting went down, then he was suddenly at the very center of things.

It always baffled Logan why the honorable Barley would choose to have someone like Dag around when the man was clearly a morally grey person - tactician skills be damned. However, you couldn't prosecute a man for being weird, and up until Barley's death and his claim as the clan's new leader, Dag hadn't done anything to cause any real alarm other than being an extremely creepy guy.

However, one could definitely tell the man was seriously warped in the head. It only took one look at him to make people run in the other direction. The burns were devastating enough to have even a severely apathetic person like Dag cover up the majority of them. They were a series of craters and gnarled skin, uneven with how poorly they had healed. They were mostly on his left side, running from the top of his head, along the side of his face and his jaw, and then down his neck and chest, which was where the blunt of the damage had been done, but he fortunately had them covered by his tunic and scarf. Under his hood, from what Logan could remember, was a mess of blonde hair. Coarse patches of it grew mostly on the right side where the flames hadn't permanently singed it off.

Some patches were a pink and still raw because he could never be bothered to properly care for the sensitive condition of his skin other than put a shirt or scarf over it like it wasn't even there. And the skin that wasn't scarred had taken on an even paler tone, looking almost grey. It was fortunate that they weren't outside, in the sunlight. He would look like a walking cadaver with such a sickly pallor.

It was more than likely, due to the severity of his burns, that Dag no longer had any feeling in the parts of his body most effected by the fire, but Logan would argue that Dag had lost _all_ feeling in his body long before the flames even touched him, and he had an inkling Elsa would back him up on that.

He stood on the other side of the room, still and silent as death. The room was large, spacious and about the same size as Elsa's castle ballroom. The bandits holding her captive stopped short of the circle the other occupants of the room formed while Logan's captor kept walking. The bandit giant dropped the dark-haired male in the very center of the circle, letting him fall unceremoniously to the ground with an audible thud.

"Oh that's okay, just drop me anywhere," Logan groaned after stifling a pained hiss when he landed on his bad arm. He could feel the dirt on the floor rub inside his cut, making it burn worse.

The bandit ignored him as he walked off somewhere deeper in the orchard house without a word, like a bear stalking off back to its cave. Logan called the big freak a whole assortment of colorful names in his head as he took note of their new surroundings, pulling himself on to his knees with a labored heave.

A total of twenty bandits littered the room, some he vaguely recognized from his time spent in their fold while others he had never seen in his life. They hung back on the sidelines, standing around on the ground floor and sitting up on the catwalks hanging above. They kept a considerable distance, giving their new guests a wide berth.

"This was all they had on them," Joaquin informed his leader. He stepped forward to stand behind Logan with their last remaining supply pack in his hand. He dropped it on the ground and kicked it forward before disarming Logan of his hunting knife, yanking it out of the holster strapped to his leg and tossing next to the pack.

Dag remained silent as he regarded his prisoners with a cold, vacant stare. The only acknowledgement he gave was a gesture with his hand, prompting two, nameless bandits on his left to step forward and examine the pack. They leafed through its contents, checking for weapons. Elsa was glad they didn't think to search her. The light weight of the dagger Logan had given her made itself known inside the leg of her boot the second she realized what the bandits were looking for.

When they deemed the pack harmless, the two lackeys stepped back into formation almost mechanically, like they barely had a mind of their own anymore, which Logan figured was exactly what Dag preferred. He couldn't even imagine how messed up these men had to be, both mentally and morally, to follow someone like Dag so unerringly. They must believe that he was giving them something they couldn't get anywhere else (what ever the hell that was, he really didn't want to know), otherwise no one in their right mind would join this gang.

But then again, Dag was rather trigger happy when it came to exit clauses with his underlings. Logan should know that better than anyone.

Seeing Dag again wasn't all that special, not really, which was not what Logan had expected. He used to think about what he would do, what he would say, if he ever came face to face with his old leader again, and this wasn't it. He could see that Dag was just the same as always, perhaps even worse. Still psychotic and creepy.

Logan had long since made his peace with his past involvement with Dag and his crew. To pay homage to his late mentor and his sagely ways, the ex-bandit refused to let buried bygones resurface on his own personal behalf. And they didn't.

It was only when the sick son of a bitch stepped towards Elsa that Logan felt a spark of new rage erupt in his chest.

He moved to stand on his feet, but a hand on his shoulder roughly forced him back on his knees. Joaquin dug his fingers into Logan's flesh in warning. The younger male stopped struggling, knowing the Spaniard's other hand was moving towards whatever he had concealed inside his vest. He wouldn't need to give Joaquin much of a reason to shoot or stab him. Still though, it took a lot not to sucker punch the arrogant prick in the face and then turn his anger on Dag. Alarm bells rang nonstop in his head, which told him that _they were outnumbered and not safe._

He breathed heavily through his nose, his chest heaving as his frustration towards their predicament grew and the ever present sting from his arm fueled his temper, inching him closer to his breaking point.

Dag ignored Logan entirely, not even giving him a passing glance while he looked Elsa up and down, making the queen want to retch at the idea of being the center of this man's attention. She struggled against the bandits flanking her, but their grip held steadfast. His stare wasn't lecherous. It was appraising, like he was taking inventory of precious cargo. But it was more empty than anything else. Still, it made Elsa angry that he still looked at her as if she was an object, something to use and gain profit from.

He lowered the blood red material of his scarf away from his mouth, exposing the scars that littered his jaw and neck.

"Hello again," he spoke in simple greeting.

His tone was just as empty as his eyes. Elsa visibly flinched. She had forgotten how unpleasantly his voice scraped against her ears. How rough and hoarse it was, as if the flames had scorched the inside of his throat as well.

"I suppose this is where I should commend you for being clever, avoiding capture for so long," he droned, looking unimpressed with her. "Hardly, though. You did last much longer than I expected you to, but I see it more as dumb luck than cleverness."

Elsa opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Before today, she told herself she would be brave and defiant if she ever found herself back in the hands of the wicked bandit leader, like Logan. But her words failed her. Dag's black gaze was dark and vacant, like he was void of all humanity.

"Come on, just leave the girl alone," Logan called out. "Nobody's worth this much trouble."

Dag's eyes flickered to the side, his head only turning the slightest bit to look over his shoulder.

"We're the ones with unfinished business, turn around and deal with me. She isn't worth anything and you know it."

Elsa felt her stomach drop when she realized what Logan was trying to do. He was trying to shift Dag's focus off of her by presenting himself as the better prize, which he wasn't. But he _thought_ he was, and that was the problem. Because as far as Logan was aware, she was Elsa Snow, the poor, lost chambermaid. An innocent victim of a mistaken identity.

'_I appreciate the sentiment and your willingness to play sacrificial lamb, but please stop talking, Logan_,' She pleaded in her head. '_Don't make him correct you._'

Dag never did, though. And he never mentioned her by her title either. Not even mockingly, and Elsa was starting to realize why that was.

She was absolutely _nothing_ in his eyes. She wasn't any more powerful or special than the lowest of peasants. His eyes distinguished nothing when it came to other people. It didn't matter to him what Elsa was or what she wasn't. It was as Logan had said, you were either useful, or dead weight to him. Anything beyond that was just unnecessary noise.

There was no monologue with this man. No boastful talk to fuel his ego about how he had outsmarted them. He didn't need the self-assurance that he had won. He _had_ won, as far as he was concerned, and that was that.

"Come on," Logan prompted again. "You've got me. That's a much better trade. Don't go dragging her further into this shit storm. She's got nothing to do with anything. You've got to know that by now. You took the wrong girl."

Elsa flinched when she saw the first flash of a real, tangible emotion in Dag's dark eyes. Interest and amusement filled his gaze and it made the queen want to shy away and crawl under a rock. He looked down at her with a small, knowing smirk on his twisted features. He then turned completely around to face Logan and began to stalk over to where Joaquin still had him kneeling on the ground.

"So quick to offer yourself up. You still have that compulsion to play make-believe hero, I see."

"Go to hell," Logan snapped.

"No thank you. I've already been," he replied mirthlessly, his gaze turning dark again as he gestured to himself. "And as you can see, I had a fantastic time."

"Oh god, do you still think you're some walking miracle? A god among men?" Logan groaned, ignoring how Joaquin tightened his grip on his shoulder. It made him want to laugh at the Spaniard's misguided sense of messed up loyalty. "Come off your high horse, Dag! You're nothing special. Stop trying to put meaning into something that isn't there. You only survived the fire because we pulled you out of it. And when I say 'we', I mean Barley's men, not yours. The ones from when this clan was something great, before _you_ ripped it to shreds!"

Logan's gaze swept around the room, eyeing the faceless men, watching them with a disgusted glare. "Now it's just a cesspool of criminals and murderers. Grunts that are too stupid and blind to realize they're following a man who will eventually lead them straight to their deaths!"

"And do you think you survived that river because _you_ were pulled out of it?" The bandit leader fired back in a flat tone.

Logan almost balked. Almost. He refused to let Dag get a raise out of him. It was like candy to the bastard. His expression remained obscure in ambiance as he chanted his own life-long mantra in his head.

'_Don't give them anything they can use against you._'

Dag pressed on with an ugly sneer.

"No, you survived because I chose not to kill you. You don't think I didn't know that pathetic old man had you hidden away somewhere on his land? I could've done so much worse to that man than shatter his knee. You know that, Logan. You got lucky in that river, but it was me who ultimately decided not to finish you off. You're only here now because I allowed you to be."

"What do you want? A Thank You card? You're so full of it," Logan mocked. "Go ahead, get me a pen and I'll show you just how appreciative I feel right now."

Dag stared down at Logan. "I'm sure you would."

He looked towards Joaquin then, giving the Spaniard a nod.

Logan blinked up at his captors as Joaquin suddenly backed away until he joined the rest of the bandits on the sidelines. Dag smirked down at Logan before stepping a few feet back himself, holding out his arms in a presenting manner.

"Stand and deliver, then," he rasped out. He prompted Logan to come at him with his black eyes gleaming with something dark. "Your hands are not bound. No one will stop you. Do what you wish to me."

"You don't think I won't?" Logan challenged. The muscles in his arms and legs twitched in anticipation the second Joaquin's presence was removed from his back, but he kept himself in check. He refused to be baited so obviously.

"I know you won't," Dag stated matter-of-factly.

He let out a dry laugh. "It may be a little suicidal for my tastes, but at least I'd die happy knowing I was able to take you with me, you psychotic son of a bitch."

"I don't doubt that. I know how self-righteous you like to think you are. But I do doubt you would be so eager to leave that lovely young lady over there alone with my men."

Logan looked over his shoulder at Elsa, still sandwiched between two of Dag's bandits. His breathing hitched at the threat.

Dag caught the look. "The question isn't whether you would be willing to risk your own life to kill me, Logan. The question is would you be willing to risk hers?" He jutted his chin in Elsa's direction. "Because I know you wouldn't. You're just smart enough to realize that I am the only thing standing between her and them. If I go down, no one will stop them. That's the only reason why you haven't even moved since you were brought in here.

He walked back towards Logan, getting up close and personal as he leaned down to growl in the younger man's face. "Don't try to play me the fool, boy. It won't work."

When Logan didn't offer up a rebuttal, Dag turned around, unconcerned with showing his back to his prisoner, and shifted his focus back on Elsa. He walked towards her in slow strides. The poor lighting in the room casted elongated shadows off his face, making his scars look even more menacing. To her great relief, he stopped at an appropriate distance from her, regarding her almost curiously with his head cocked to the side in a gesture that would've been innocent if it was done by anyone else.

"You've been able to get under his skin. Not a very hard feat, mind you. He's always been eager to please," He told her while throwing another sneer over his shoulder. "Have you told him yet?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Elsa voice shook, her heart rate increasing tenfold as her eyes flickered between Dag and Logan.

"Of course you don't." He gave her another unimpressed glare. "You're a lot more rebellious than I gave you credit for. You always seemed so polite, so domesticated, keeping your head down and letting others walk all over you. It seems like he's starting to rub off on you, and I suspect the feeling is very much mutual. Logan wouldn't fight this hard for just anyone. I'm going to let you in on a little secret about your new friend, my dear." He leaned in a closer to her, as if he was actually going to tell her a secret. "Despite how he acts otherwise, Logan has always had two weakness he's never been able to overcome. The first - he's _loyal_."

He said the last word with disgust, like it was the most distasteful thing to have ever come out of his mouth.

"Loyal to a fault."

"It's better than being whatever you are," Logan threw out.

"He would've followed Barley to the ends of the earth if that pathetic codger asked him to. Not that he could've been much use."

He turned on Logan again, pacing the room back and forth between his prisoners like a tiger in a cage. He had that gleam in his eyes again. That gleam that told Logan he was looking to do some serious damage. He reached inside his tunic and pulled out a hawkbill knife with a black ivory handle. He flipped it open with an easy flick of his wrist. The distinctive click that it made echoed loudly through the room. Elsa stared at the sharp blade with wide eyes.

Logan's head snapped up at the sound. His face drained of all color in less than a second as his breathing hitched painfully in his throat. He eyed the familiar blade with panic, instantly recognizing it as the same knife Dag had used to carve up his chest the last time they were in this situation. The center of his chest began to burn with phantom pains from the traumatic memory.

He had been so focused on the knife, he barely noticed Dag step behind him until he was shoved forward on to his stomach. He rolled on to his back the second he realized what happened, but Dag's heavy boot stomped on his chest and kept him from getting up. The air left his lungs and he choked on his own breath. Dag stood over him, keeping Logan securely in place with his boot. He looked down at the struggling man with an almost bored look before leaning down. He let the blade of his knife rest on the hem of Logan's shirt, the tip just barely grazing the skin underneath. Satisfaction bloomed in his chest as he felt Logan become rigid.

"Are you still defective? I know you are. You're tough and stubborn, but you've got your weakness. It wouldn't take much to kill you. Just one cut in the right place." Logan squirmed when he felt the fine tip of Dag's blade run down the length of his collar bone. "I wouldn't even have to go very deep, or take anything out of you. I'd just have to cut deep enough and you'll bleed out all on your own, much faster than anyone else would, wouldn't you? I told Barley he shouldn't have taken in a runt like you, especially being the way you are."

Logan glared up at him, but Dag ignored him in favor of reaching down and twisting his fingers into the fabric of his shirt. The bandit leader hoisted Logan back up and on to his knees and proceeded to circle him again.

"Personally, I think the loyalty is more crippling, but this works just as well. The human body can be so unreliable sometimes. So fragile, so breakable-"

"So flammable? You know all about that, don't ya Dag?" Logan threw out defiantly, earning him a swift punch to the face.

He heard rather than felt the fist hit its mark. He heard Elsa gasp and the muffled sound of impact, making his head whip to the side when leather-bound knuckles came in harsh contact with his cheek. Pain erupted anew in his head and he tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth, pooling along his tongue. He stifled a groan and spat the blood out on the ground before turning his face upwards again to glare at Dag.

"You're broken and useless. Always have been, always will be, for the rest of your pathetic life - however long I decide that is."

Logan was thrown forward again, laying face first against the ground with Dag's boot embedded in between his shoulder blades. He tasted dirt, and the tiny grains of rock on the ground bit into the side of his face.

Dag looked in Elsa's direction. His expression was unreadable as he gestured towards the bandits flanking her.

"Bring the girl over here."

The blonde went stiff as the bandits pulled her forward without question, towards the center of the room where Dag stood over Logan.

Throughout the disturbing scene unfolding in front of her, Elsa had been frozen in place, unable to move, unable to think. All she was able to do was stare hopelessly while Logan was abused by Dag. The ex-bandit had taken it all in stride, not once dropping his guard or bowing down to his tormentor, even as Dag continued to throw his weaknesses and insecurities in his face. It was admirable and one of the bravest things she had ever seen, and Elsa felt something foreign bloom in the pit of her stomach, amidst the fear and dread. His reassuring look from earlier almost gave her hope they would both make it out of this alive. Somehow.

She couldn't help but shout inside her head, berating herself for just standing around and watching things happen while Logan was forced to take the abuse.

However, when she found herself being pulled forward, her feet scrapping along the ground, the notion finally gave Elsa the swift kick in the rear that she needed and she stepped back, bracing her feet. She used her previous inaction to surprise the bandits holding her by using all her weight to step back and yank her arms out of their grasp.

The maneuver only managed to get one of her arms free. She felt her arm slip from the first bandit, having caught him off guard. The other bandit had better reflexes and he tightened his grip the moment he felt her pull, but with a move that was almost unconscious, Elsa shoved the first bandit as hard as she could away from her before reaching down, slipping her hand underneath her skirts and pulling her dagger from her boot.

She tried not to think about what she was doing as she took the dagger and brought it down on the bandit's thigh. He screamed from the assault and released her arm. He clutched at the piece of steel sticking out of his leg, completely losing all interest in Elsa, who gave a hard jerk of her arm and pulled her dagger free. Pulling it out was a lot harder than she thought it would be and she needed to use both hands to do so. Her stomach churned at the gnarly sensation that ran through the hilt of the dagger and into the palm of her hand when the blade came out. It was like embedding a craving knife deep into a melon, except that wasn't melon juice staining her blade now and that man's thigh wasn't a piece of fruit.

Once she was free of both bandits, she scrambled back, holding out her bloodied weapon in front of her. By now, the other bandits lingering on the sidelines were alert and drawn into the conflict by their fallen comrade. He was screaming profanities towards the ceiling while clutching his leg, trying to stem the bleeding. A couple of them jumped down from the catwalks above, landing in front of the queen and attempting to advance on her. They were forced to keep a cautious distance, remaining mindful of the fact that the queen was armed.

In more ways than one.

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**AN: I hope you all enjoyed part one. Make sure to leave me a review telling me your thoughts on it!**

**(Fun Fact) The bandits were originally going to make camp randomly in the forest, but I wanted to spice up the scenery a bit and decided to put them in an apple orchard. ****Why an apple orchard? Because of the Scandinavian/Norse goddess, Iduna. According to legend, she tended to the apple orchards in Asgard. Their immortality depended on the partaking of her apples. ****How is that relevant to the story? Because according to Frozen Wiki, Elsa and Anna's mother, the former queen of Arendelle, was named Iduna. I liked the idea of the apple theme, the name reference, and giving the queen just a tad more depth to her character.**

**~Scopiofreak~**


	13. Ambushed Pt 2

**AN: I hope you guys enjoy this second half. I was going to wait and post this maybe in a few days, but I decided to just give to you guys all at once. You've all been so great and patient with me. I really appreciate the support!**

**Warnings: Mild language (one F-bomb), violence (but nothing too graphic)**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (11/30/16)**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or it's characters.**

* * *

Elsa held the dagger out in front of her with both hands gripping the handle.

"Stay back!" she demanded, eyeing the bandits advancing on her.

It took every ounce of strength inside her to keep her voice leveled and not let the blade shake in her grip. She swiped at anyone who tried to get too close.

"Let her be! She won't test my threat against her kingdom," Dag commanded, turning his head dismissively away from Elsa. "I'll deal with her in a moment. She can watch while I stain the ground with the runt's blood."

He walked across the room where an old cider barrel was propped up and used as a makeshift weapon rack. His gloved hand skimmed over the handles of the different weapons inside; swords, hammers, a rusted farming sickle - before deciding on an axe. Elsa stared at him in horror as he lifted the weapon from the barrel, brandishing it ostentatiously to further torment the queen.

Elsa shook her head, ice building beneath her palms and along the handle of her dagger.

"No, no, no," she chanted as her eyes followed Dag.

With the axe in hand, he walked back over to Logan, who was trying to pull himself up and gain his breath back. When Dag drew close enough, he stomped down between Logan's shoulder blades again, forcing him back on his stomach. The ex-bandit felt his world give a sickening lurch at the motion, blood loss making his head swim. He found himself unable to struggle as Dag used his boot to roll Logan on to his back so he could see what was about to happen. He blinked up at the axe in Dag's hand.

'_Crap, I'm going to die._' he thought, surprisingly calm. '_This is how I die, killed with an axe. And he's going to make her watch._'

"Let it be a lesson. You shouldn't have run off," he heard Dag say above him. "Consider yourself toxic, my dear. Everything you touch, anyone you try to go to for help, will suffer the same fate. I already warned you once, you only have yourself to blame for this, girl."

"Get the hell out of here, Elsa!" Logan shouted, struggling anew. He tried to dislodge Dag's boot from his chest, but it wouldn't budge. Dag had him pinned down. "Just run, dammit! Forget about me!"

Elsa looked between Logan and the path behind her that would lead back to the entrance of the orchard house, torn. Her feet were rooted to the ground as her mind raced with thoughts, all spinning around each other like a cyclone, blurring where one started and another ended. It was turmoil. If she chose to run now and save herself, then there was a chance of her getting out of the building, but no guarantee of how much further she'd get than that. Not to mention she would literally be leaving Logan to his death, and she didn't want that. She didn't want him to die, not in such a bloody, violent way. But she didn't want to stay and _watch_, either.

"No, no, please!" she cried out when Dag took aim. "Don't hurt him! You don't have to do this!"

"I know," was all he said in reply.

He heaved the axe up and over his head, his eyes never leaving Logan's. Hazel stared hard into near black, forcing forward every once of defiance they could as one final stand of rebellion.

Time slowed down. The span of two seconds stretched into two minutes, then two hours and so on until time ceased to have any meaning at all. Elsa's mind went stark blank within that infinite stretch, all thoughts halting in their paths before melting away like snow in Spring until only one, barely constructed thought remained and her body was thrown into it by the sheer momentum.

"_Stop!_"

Dag brought down the axe.

Her left hand released its death grip on her dagger and shot out, a bolt of ice rocketing from her fingertips.

A brilliant, blue flash illuminated the room for a split second, stunning the occupants as the bolt of ice ripped through the room with the speed of a bullet and hit its target with a loud crack.

Dag yelled out when the ice hit him square in the back. It cocooned him on impact, encasing almost his entire upper body in solid ice and freezing his right arm and the axe in mid-strike. The ice spread and hardened, immobilizing him completely in one move. Dag's black eyes danced erratically in his skull, darting back and forth, unable to move the rest of his head once the ice covered half of it. He let out a furious howl when comprehension set in and he realized that Elsa had just shot him with her powers.

"Whoa!" Logan shouted, staring wide-eyed at both the human popsicle above him, and the blade of the axe that stopped barely a foot from his face. "What the hell!"

His brain refused to register what happened in the last thirty seconds or so (because honestly, he had literally been _inches_ from receiving an axe to the head), but when he heard Elsa call out to him, anything not having to do with, "_you can escape now_", was pushed to the side for later contemplation.

"Logan, get up!" Elsa shouted. She shot off another ice blast at one of the bandits surrounding her. "We have to go!"

The entire room was thrown by the new development, lagging just as he had, but any second now it would erupt into chaos. Logan gripped Dag's boot again, slipping his fingers beneath the heavy soles and pushing up with all his might. He knocked the bandit leader off balance. The ice shell added uneven weight to his center of gravity. When Logan pushed up, he sent Dag falling back with him frozen in place and unable to do anything about it. Some of the ice shattered when he hit the ground, breaking off in large chunks, but his upper body was still trapped. He yelled like a mad animal with the side of his face pressed against the ground.

Once he pushed Dag off, Logan hauled himself to his feet, stumbling when the sudden movement made his vision blur again. He shook the creeping disorientation from his head and forced himself together. The dime had dropped sometime between Dag falling and Logan climbing upright, and the ex-bandit could hear the commotion as Dag's lackeys finally caught up.

Joaquin and the bandits closest to him went to the aid of their leader. What remained of the bandits seated up on the catwalks jumped down and advanced on their escaping prisoner. Logan sent a flying punch into the bandit blocking his path towards Elsa, sending him to the ground. He ignored the rest, shoving away anyone who got too close as he ran across the room towards the woman.

She was shooting back anybody who wasn't Logan. They laid scattered around her, some frozen to the ground with others frozen to the walls. They fought to get themselves free, but the ice held fierce. Logan snatched up his knife and their last remaining supply pack from the ground as he ran past them, aware that he was being pursued by about five or six bandits. He jumped over the bandits on the floor, dismissing the ice covering their bodies in the same second he acknowledged it until he reached Elsa.

Both relief and fear filled her gaze when they finally reunited. Relief that he was still whole and breathing, and fear because of her powers. She opened her mouth to say something, anything to explain herself and her sudden ability to shoot ice out of her fingertips, but before she could even think how to articulate such an explanation, Logan ran past her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her with him.

When they passed by a large rack full of empty barrels, propped up by the entrance of the main chamber, Logan kicked out one of its base support beams. The rusted bolts holding it in place were no match and they easily gave way, wood splintering before the whole thing came loose. The barrels followed as gravity rolled them off their tracks and they bounced against the ground. Logan and Elsa ran out of the room and left the wave of barrels to knock over the bandits pursuing them like bowling pins.

Darkness shrouded them as they moved through the corridors of the orchard house. Elsa trailed behind Logan, holding up the ends of her skirt to avoid tripping over it. The apple mush on the ground made running difficult, but she persevered.

Logan did his best to backtrack to the entrance of the orchard house, but it wasn't easy. He didn't have the best view when they were coming through the first time. He had been riding on some behemoth's shoulder, backwards. Trying to navigate from reversed memory was a nightmare and it led them to a four-way corridor intersection - one that he most certainly did _not_ remember coming through before.

"Shit!" he cursed, looking back and forth at the paths before them. "We must've taken a wrong turn somewhere."

"I think there's more coming up behind us," Elsa panted out.

Logan turned towards the area they had just left, realizing the blonde was right when he heard voices. He looked at his options again, debating which way before going down the hallway on the left.

"This way!"

They ran down the hallway until they reached the end where one solitary door stood. Logan didn't even question what might be on the other side as he reached for the doorknob and pulled it open, immensely grateful it wasn't locked. He ushered Elsa inside.

As soon as the door latched shut behind them with a rattle, they both collapsed against it, their backs pressed to the wood while they fought to catch their breath. Elsa reached up and laid her hand flat above her heaving sternum, trying to calm herself as she felt her heart beat rapidly beneath her palm. She glanced around the room, taking in their surroundings. They were inside some sort of storage chamber, filled with cobwebs and dusty racks of empty bottles and barrels of deep golden liquid. Elsa recognized the sweet, spicy smell of Apple cider.

Logan stood next to her panting just as heavily. He had let their pack fall to the ground as he leaned forward to rest his hands on his knees. Their sudden escape, though fortunate, left him wrecked. The flurry of movements from their escape did nothing to soothe his already pounding head and he was starting to become more woozy from blood loss. Not enough for it to be a problem (yet), but he knew it would be in their best interest if they got the hell out of this orchard so he could patch himself up.

"Are you okay?" he finally managed to ask.

Elsa shook her head, panting out, "not really, but I could be worse."

Logan let out a breathless laugh.

"Atta girl."

"You're still bleeding," she pointed out, gesturing to his arm.

The sleeve of his grey shirt was soaked in blood and the cut on his bicep still looked fresh and agitated. Her concern was genuine, not something said only to distract him from her ice powers. Though not life-threateningly deep, the cut looked painful. Before she realized what she was doing, she reached out to run her fingertips over the bloodstained skin in a gentle touch meant to sooth, but Logan pulled it out of reach.

"I'm fine," he said, harsher than he intended. "I'll deal with it later. Right now we need to focus on getting out of here. They'll eventually check down here and we need to be gone."

"Where are we supposed to go? There isn't another door in this room."

"There's that," he pointed at the conveyor belt filled with water and apples. It ran along the length of the floor from the other room adjacent to it, and disappeared up on to a higher level of the orchard house.

"Can we get out that way?"

"No idea, but it's as good a time as any to find out. Sure beats the hell out of sitting around here, waiting for Dag to bust down the door."

Logan grunted as he jumped up on to the shelf closest to the door and used his weight to pull it down. It fell slanted in front of the door, barricading it. Empty bottles fell to the floor with a loud pop, shattering into pieces. Logan turned back to Elsa and pushed her towards the conveyor belt.

"Come on. Someone would've definitely heard that."

The ex-bandit hopped up on to the belt, kicking aside some of the apples underfoot before reaching out to hoist Elsa up next to him. From there they made their way up, mindful of their footing against the wet metal of the belt as they climbed up through the break in the wall and out of the storage room just as they heard pounding against the door.

The belt led them up an apple chute that connected to a catwalk on the other side. Logan went up first, struggling a little because of his shoulders and the pack he was hauling up with him, but he still managed to make it up and on to the catwalk. Once he was up, he turned to help Elsa who was coming behind him, having less trouble slipping up the chute because of her svelte frame. Her boots had poor purchase against the chute, and she thanked Logan for pulling her up the rest of the way, otherwise she would have lost her grip and slid back down.

Logan motioned for silence with a finger to his lips. He nodded towards the ground floor, warding against alerting any possible bandits patrolling below to their presence. Elsa nodded in understanding and followed Logan down the catwalk. They stepped lightly on the rusted metal. The bandits would be busting through the storage room door any time now.

The catwalk came to an end at an opened shaft at the top of the orchard silo. They skidded to a stop and Logan let out another curse, looking down into the silo and then back the way they came. Realizing there wouldn't be anytime to turn back and go another way before the bandits caught up to them, Logan calculated the likeliness of jumping into the silo and landing unscathed. Fortunately the silo wasn't that tall in height, and it was barely a quarter full so they would be able to get out through the bottom. Even better, the apples piled below at a slant. It would be an unpleasant slide down, but the empty space between the apples and the silo top wasn't a bone-breaking distance. It would have to do.

"We're going to have to jump."

He adjusted his grip on their pack and jumped into the silo without waiting for Elsa's reaction. He made sure to keep his legs straight so his feet took the blunt of the fall. The apples were halfway rotted and slippery beneath him as he slid down the hill of fruit. He didn't do anything to stop his descent. He let it happen and focused on not toppling ass-over-tea kettle.

When he reached the bottom, he stood up and did his best to brush off the apple gunk on his clothes before calling up to Elsa.

"Come down! Keep your legs straight and try not to break anything!"

Elsa glared down at him from the top of the silo, very much peeved that he had jumped without at least giving her more of a warning. She knew this wasn't the time to scold him, what with the sounds of approaching bandits growing closer behind her, but Logan really needed to stop spearheading into questionable situations without properly consulting her first. He was beginning to remind her too much of Anna.

"Hurry up!" he barked. "Just do what I said and you'll be fine!"

She chose not to think about it as she sat on the edge of the catwalk, deciding to take a safer route than just catapulting herself over like Logan. She did what he said and her boots hit the apples first, but her slide down was much less controlled. The apples were slipperier than she thought. The rotten smell, so up close and personal, overwhelmed her senses and caused her to roll like a snowball down a hill and land gracelessly on the ground.

When her world finally stopped spinning, she let out a miserable groan and looked down at herself, shivering in disgust. Her cloak and skirt were covered in dirt and rotten apple mush. Filth was caked on her body and she felt sticking from head to toe.

Logan held out his hand with a smirk. "Nice landing. Very graceful."

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled, taking the offered hand.

They made their way out of the silo without further incident and Elsa relished in the smell of fresh air when they finally broke out of the musty orchard house. Rotten apples still plagued the air, but it wasn't nearly as suffocating as it was inside the building. The queen took a deep breath and looked towards the sky, watching sunset crawl ever further across the horizon.

Logan didn't loiter and he was pulling her along before she knew it. They might have made it outside of the orchard house, but they were still very much in enemy territory. The queen kept her head low as she followed Logan away from the orchard and back towards the forest. She could hear shouts from Dag's men echoing all throughout the area.

They ducked behind piles of apples and abandoned farming equipment. Logan kept them out of the open. It was only when the sound of barking dogs echoing in the air with the bandits' shouting, that Logan threw caution to the wind. He felt Elsa tense up next to him. He grabbed her hand again and broke out of their cover, making a beeline for the forest.

The barking of the dogs grew louder, having picked up on the prisoners' scent and led their handlers outside.

Logan paused, looking around.

"Quick! The river!"

He made a sharp right turn, veering off to the side instead of forward.

"Why?" Elsa gasped out, struggling to keep up.

"I have an idea!"

The river was about a quarter mile past the treeline. It wasn't the same spot they had been before. Elsa could tell it was different by the way the water was running faster, turning rapids and crashing against the riverbank as it rushed through the forest. They followed it, picking up speed in-time with the water until they reached the abrupt end of it on a half-formed juncture of land, spilling off the very edge of the world as far as the queen could see.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the waterfall. She had never seen one in real life before and she stared in awe. The powerful rumbling of the water, the glistening rocks slowly eroding under the beat of the water's flow, the steep nose dive down at a straight angle where the river flowed out at the bottom. Her stomach twisted and her vision swam with vertigo when they skidded to a stop at the edge of the fall, halting inches from the drop below.

It didn't take the queen long to realize that Logan intended for them to jump again, seeing as there was nowhere else for them to go and they could hear Dag's hounds still hot on their heels.

"_This_ is your idea!?" She practically screeched while gesturing to the waterfall with widespread hands.

"Not one of my best, but yeah!" he shouted over the roar of the fall. "It's all I got!"

She covered her ears with her hands, the roar too intense for her to think straight. "This is insane! We can't jump off a waterfall!"

"Well we sure as shit can't turn back and find another way! They're not crazy enough to jump off a waterfall!"

"_Neither am I!_" Elsa shouted. "We could die if we jump!"

"And we could die if we stay!" Logan threw back. "We go forward or we don't go at all!"

Elsa looked between Logan and the jump before them, trying to decide if this was truly their only chance to escape. One look over her shoulder at the sounds of howls getting closer finally convinced her that, yes, this was the only way. She looked back at Logan, conveying with one look how utterly terrified she was.

"This is nuts!"

"It'll be alright!" he promised.

She felt him pull on her arm, and then they were in the air.

The ground disappeared beneath her feet and she felt like she was floating. Her stomach was light, and her cloak and skirt flared up around her like a gust of icy wind. The feeling only lasted for a second, because then in the very next they were plummeting downwards, her insides jolting up into her throat. She dared to look down only once and barely glimpsed the churning water and the clouds of mist blanketing the bottom, seemingly coming up to meet them instead of the other way around.

When they hit the water, the air in her lungs came rushing out and Elsa realized that jumping off a waterfall in desperation was nothing like leisurely jumping into a pond or lake. The terrifying sensation of being bodily airborne from very high up and then being submerged in water within the span of only a few seconds was overwhelming and it shook the queen to the core, making her claw for the surface in disoriented panic.

She knew the water was cold - _freezing_, in fact. She knew that the second it came in contact with her skin. Despite what people might think, Elsa could feel cold. She knew when something was cold. She could feel the sensation just like anyone else. It just didn't hurt or inhibit her, didn't slow her down or make her feel tired. But she knew what cold felt like. Jumping off the waterfall wasn't a very wise decision from just the temperature of the water alone. To Elsa it was only a small shock, a sudden transition from a mildly cold climate on land to a freezing one below, but she could only imagine for Logan it felt like jumping into fire, water so cold it burned.

Nonetheless, they both resurfaced alive and gasping for air, Logan a few seconds behind because of the weight of the supply pack he still held on to. The river was very much active at the bottom, and they had been swept along before their heads could even break the surface.

The water lapped over Elsa's chin, splashing her into the mouth and eyes. Her sinuses burned and she coughed every time water went up her nose. She tried to kick off the river floor, but the tips of her toes could barely skim it. She could feel the added weight of her cloak, completely soaked and making it difficult to keep her head above water. Her fingers flew up to her neck on instinct and released the clasp holding her cloak in place. It was pulled away by the river as soon as it came loose and she was relieved to be free of its weight. It made wading a little easier.

The river rushed along with no concern for the two people bobbing in it like buoys. It wasn't rapidly fast, but they wouldn't be able to swim against the current and climb out of the riverbank. Logan looked around for an out, moving around much easier than Elsa because he could use the river floor for leverage. He saw that they were coming up on a small bridge just ahead.

"There!" he called over the water. He pointed towards the bridge before maneuvering himself so he was floating behind Elsa. "When we get close to this bridge, I'm going to hoist you up and we're going to climb on it. Got that?"

Elsa could only nod. The bridge came up fast and she only felt Logan's hands encircle her waist for a second before she was lifted up. Her hands met hard wood and she gripped on to it for dear life. Wasting none of her strength with just dangling there in the air trying to gather her bearings, the queen tightened her grip on the bridge and heaved her body up with all her might.

Climbing while soaked was hard, but once she managed to get a firm foothold on the bridge, she was able to climb up and over the railing. Logan followed close behind, having used the momentum of lifting Elsa up to kick off the river floor once last time. He jumped up and caught a grip of the bridge himself, easily clambering up after the queen despite the extra weight of their pack.

Together they finally collapsed on to the dry bridge, panting heavy from both exhaustion and relief that they had successfully escaped Dag's clutches.

Logan let his body fall flat on the bridge, going limp.

"Holy crap, I can't believe we made it," he breathed, his chest heaving from adrenaline. He couldn't help but feel a little giddy. "Did you _see_ what happened back there? That was awesome! I've never had such a long streak of dumb-fucking-luck in my life!"

A feeling of pure elation and awe pumped fluidly through his veins as he continued to lay atop of the bridge on his back, looking up at the sky. He honestly couldn't believe they had made it out of that orchard house in one piece. Going in, Logan had been about ninety percent sure he would never see the light of day again. But here they were! At the bottom of a waterfall they had just jumped off of. That had to be about the third wildest thing he had ever done with a woman. It had been terrifying and exhilarating all at once, and he even got to keep his pants on.

Elsa sat barely a foot away from him, her back pushed against the railing of the bridge and her knees bent up to her chin. He noticed her blue cloak was gone, leaving her only in her cream blouse and maroon skirt. They clung to her like a second skin. The platinum blonde strands of her hair, darkened by the water, hung freely in her face and almost completely out of her messy braid.

Logan didn't say anything else as he stared back at the sky, fighting to get his breath back while occasionally letting out a breathy, disbelieving laugh at their epic escape. The queen wasn't paying attention to him in the slightest. Her head was turned upwards, her eyes glued to the lone figure now standing on the spot above the waterfall where they had just jumped from, perched like a cathedral gargoyle.

Even from all the way down where they were, she could see his sickly pale expression with stunning clarity, could see his blood red hood being pulled up around his ears and wrapped around the lower half of his face.

There was a deathly promise in his eyes. The acknowledgment that, in her bold act of sparing Logan from meeting his end on the blade of an axe, Elsa had yet again broken the rules - the most important rule. She had broken the golden rule and now whatever small assurance she had left for Anna's safety was now gone. Snuffed out in an instance.

This was no longer a game of cat and mouse, a game of hide and seek where Elsa was both the participant and the prize.

It was now a race. A race to see who could get to Arendelle first.

"Come on," Logan panted as he dragged himself to his feet, dripping wet. Most of the adrenaline had drained from his system. More than enough for him to feel the pain in his arm again. It had dulled down to an angry throbbing and he knew it was only a matter of time before it went numb. He picked up his pack and stepped off the bridge. Elsa slowly stood up after him, but did not follow.

"Looks like we're out of the woods for the moment - so to speak. There's gotta be a town somewhere along this river. If we haul ass, we can get there before it gets too dark and-"

He stopped when he realized Elsa was just standing there, staring uncomprehendingly at the rushing water below the bridge with her hands gripping the railing tightly. He had noticed before that she didn't seem as outwardly ecstatic about their escape as he had been, but he had chalked it up to shock. Now, looking at her more closely, he saw the exact opposite of what he had felt moments ago.

Her shoulders were slumped, her skin had taken on an even paler tone and there was an air of defeat coming off her in waves. He stepped back towards her, a question on his lips. When she turned to look at him, he flinched when he saw those big, blue eyes filled with a new level of sadness and despair he didn't think the woman could sink to.

"Oh no," he groaned, seeing the way the woman's bottom lip began to tremble, and her glossy eyes that had nothing to do with the river water. He knew what was about to happen. "Don't do that. Come on, I'm not good with that."

"He's going to kill her," Elsa whispered as she choked back a sob. Her chest burned and her hands twisted into her skirt, causing the wet material underneath to freeze. "He's going to kill her and it's going to be all my fault."

The ex-bandit adopted his own look of awkward despair as tears streamed down the queen's rosy cheeks and she began to shake. She choked back another sob, releasing her skirt and bringing her arms up to hug herself. Her eyes shut tight against the pain and she let out a shuddered breath, trying to get a handle on her emotions but failing.

'_Oh god, please don't cry_,' Logan thought miserably. '_I'm horrible with crying women._'

A thin sheet of ice began to crawl out from beneath Elsa's feet, freezing the part of the bridge she still stood on. Images of her burning kingdom flashed inside her mind, making her feel sick to her stomach. The thought of returning to Arendelle only to find a mountain of smoldering ashes and her sister wiped clean from this earth finally pushed the queen over the edge. Her knees buckled beneath her and she collapsed back on to the bridge a sobbing mess.

"He's going to kill Anna!" she wailed. Her fingers came up to twist in her hair, yanking on the strands painfully in punishment.

Logan cautiously eyed the ice patch, taking this new piece of information and carefully putting it aside with the rest of unbelievable things that happened to him today for when he would eventually need to properly analyze it. He watched Elsa have her moment of weakness, feeling entirely uncomfortable with the sounds of her cries but not showing it. The woman had some nasty feelings boiling up inside her and she needed to let them out. He understood that and didn't judge.

When her sobs finally quieted down to soft mews and hiccups, he sidestepped the ice on the bridge and knelt down on one knee so he was eye level with her.

"Look at me," he commanded softly.

She didn't raise her head, or react in any way that suggested that she had heard him. He bit back a twinge of frustration and reached out towards her face. Her skin felt cool to the touch as he slipped his fingers underneath her chin and he briefly wondered if that was because of the river, or if it was just _her_.

She winced at the sudden contact, but didn't pull away and allowed Logan to tilt her head up.

"Elsa, look at me," he commanded again, a little more firmly.

She raised her gaze to meet his. That was the second time he had ever used her actual name. The first time had been back in the orchard house, when he told her to run. She remembered, but hadn't acknowledged it until now.

"He is not going to kill Anna, okay? He is _not_," he told her. "I'm not going to let that happen, understand? We're going to get up, find the nearest town and flag down a ride."

"But Dag's going to-"

"No, he's not. Listen-" he turned and pointed at the waterfall "look at that. Do you see that up there? Do you know what that means for us? If what happened today didn't happen, then we would've had to find a way around that thing. Believe it or not, jumping off that waterfall was a shortcut, and a pretty damn good one. So unless Dag's planning to take a dip and join the party, we're _days_ ahead of him. If we keep moving, we'll get back to Arendelle before he does."

Jumping off the waterfall had indeed been a crazy move, but it ultimately worked in their favor in more ways than one. They were ahead again, and Logan planned to do everything in his power to keep it that way.

"That is the_ last_ time someone gets the jump on me," Logan vowed. "This isn't over. I'd say we put up one hell of a fight today. Dag will realize we're not just going to lie down and surrender."

Elsa blinked away the rest of her tears and sniffled softly. "What are we going to do?"

"Well, first off, we're going to get up-" he grabbed her hands and pulled her on to her feet, "and we're going to find shelter before night sets in. And then we're going to carry on like we were before. We'll gather new supplies, somehow. Get some new horses and get back on the road again. Okay?"

She nodded, taking in a deep breath and letting it out. The frost around her feet started to fade away as she finally settled down, leaving behind only water stains on the bridge.

"Okay."

"But..." Logan interjected, struggling with what he was about to say next. "The thing is, we're going to have to take that ship. The one I told you about last week. I know you don't like them, but I'm not exaggerating when I say at this point it's our only option. If we go the long way, we could get ambushed again. It's the only way we'll stay ahead of Dag and his gang."

The very idea of the ship made Elsa's stomach churn, but after today she honestly felt too exhausted to care. The anxiety will probably blossom anew later when they reached the kingdom port, when it finally came down to actually stepping aboard a ship.

'_But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it._'

"Alright," she nodded again, putting on a brave face. "Let's go."

With a display natural only to a queen, Elsa squared her shoulders and held her head a little higher in a poor attempt to recapture whatever control and dignity she had lost during her breakdown. Purpose and hope lifted her spirits again and she felt ready to push on. She moved to walk past her guide and step off the bridge.

"Hey," he spoke up again, reaching out and snaring two of her fingers in his own, causing her to halt. Despite how incredibly cold he must have been right now, he seemed in no hurry to release her. "You saved my life back there, in the orchard. You know that, right?"

Assuming the question was rhetorical, Elsa didn't reply. She only looked at him curiously, wondering where he was going with this. His fingers readjusted his grip on hers until their hands were fully interlocked. She looked down at them before looking back up at Logan's sincere expression.

He squeezed her hand gently.

"Thank you."

He released her a second later and took point without a word. Elsa looked down at her now empty hand and smiled softly before stepping off the bridge and following Logan. They picked the right side of the river and followed side by side as the sun began to set over the horizon, bathing the world in an orange glow.

"Are we going to talk about the fact that I have magical ice powers?"

"I'm still compartmentalizing."

* * *

**AN:** **Finally Elsa's powers have been revealed. Sorry if Logan didn't acknowledge them much in this chapter. Prioritizing is very important for someone like him, especially in hostile situations. Trust me, when the dust finally settles, there will be some serious talks ahappenin'...Well, as serious a talk as Logan is capable of having.**

**Don't forget to review! I appreciate all the support! Especially with these two chapters, being as intense as they were.**

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	14. Safe Haven And Those Who Dwell Inside

**AN: Special thanks to all the usual players and a couple new ones for reviewing last chapter. I appreciate every single one of you!**

**This chapter has a bit of a medical element to it for those of you who picked up on the hints I've been dropping. I'm not a doctor, nor have I had medical training. The condition featured in this chapter is one that I have had some personal experience with, but most of it is based off research I did for this story. I tried to be as accurate as possible, but it is a pretty straightforward condition so I'm not too worried.**

**Warning: Logan's potty mouth.**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (11/30/16)**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or any of its characters.**

* * *

It started to snow not long after the sun went down.

It blew in light at first, small specks of white floating down from above and melting as soon as they touched ground, but then it came down heavier when night fully took over the skies. It built up at a constant pace, coating the forest in a thin blanket of fresh snow. Elsa and Logan moved through the forest in silence. Their breath came out in puffs of frozen air and neither wore enough clothing to protect themselves from the cold.

It didn't have much of an effect on Elsa temperature-wise, but her wet clothing clung uncomfortably to her skin, only halfway dry and beginning to freeze at the ends of her skirts. Her blonde hair was in disarray with her bangs hanging in her face and her braid almost completely undone. The river had washed away most of the apple gunk from the orchard, but she could still feel a layer of grime covering her skin that would never truly wash off. And Logan wasn't fairing much better. He had left his coat behind with their horses when the bandits ambushed them. The cold ate away at his thin shirt, making his skin ache and forcing him to bite hard on the inside of his cheek to keep his teeth from chattering.

They continued to avoid bringing up the obvious.

Or rather, Elsa was avoiding it while Logan still hadn't fully acknowledged it.

Like he told her, everything that happened during the bandit ambush was being carefully compartmentalized. Survival came first. He would worry about the mystical ice powers later when they've found shelter from the snow. There were more pressing matters right now and he couldn't focus on anything but the throb in his still bleeding arm, how freezing he was and how lightheaded he felt. Nothing else mattered. Not even the fact that Elsa had shot _ice_ out of her _fingertips_.

The queen didn't know how she should feel, about Logan knowing. Mainly because she didn't know how _he_ felt about it. A small part of her was relieved that this huge weight had finally been lifted off her shoulders, consequences be damned. But a bigger part of her dreaded his reaction when he finally had time to process things. For the most part, the ex-bandit wasn't screaming or yelling at her, calling her a freak or a monster, so at the very least that was a good sign.

Then again, she had come to realize a long time ago that sometimes what Logan doesn't say is far more condemning than what he does say.

She was being selfish, though. She had fallen back into the mindset that the world revolved around her powers and her anxieties. Logan clearly had more important things on his mind. Since leaving the river, her guide had started acting less like his usual self and it was obvious there was something wrong with him. His movements were getting progressively more sluggish the further they traveled and he was constantly out of breath. He tried to cover up his odd behavior by putting on an apathetic face and pushing forward even though it was putting a lot of strain on his battered body, but in the empty forest with nothing but the sounds of their feet crunching on snow to fill the silence, his exhaustion rang like a siren.

"Are you okay?" she finally worked up the confidence to ask him. "Your lips are turning blue."

Even through scarce moonlight she could see the purplish-blue hue his mouth was taking on. Not only that, his complexion had paled and he looked white as a sheet. And despite it being freezing out and being cladded in soaked clothing, the loose hairs that always hung carefree in his eyes were now clinging to his forehead with perspiration, only adding to the obvious exertion he was under.

"Not really," he grunted, hoisting their pack back up on his shoulder when it began to slide off. His grip kept going lax without his permission, slowly loosening itself without him even being aware until the leather strap almost slipped from his fingers. "But it's not the cold I'm worried about."

Elsa trailed her gaze down towards the cut on his arm. It wouldn't take a doctor to realize something wasn't right about Logan's injury. It was still bleeding. Given the size of the wound, it should have stopped a long time ago and there was now bruising around the laceration that hadn't been there when they climbed out of the river. She didn't know much about human health or medicine, but even Elsa could tell that wasn't normal.

"What's wrong with your arm? Why is it still bleeding?"

"Don't worry about it," he snapped. "We just need to get inside somewhere soon. I'll be fine once I patch myself up. We've got an aid kit in our pack I can use."

It was difficult navigating the forest at night. The moon was almost full and it gave them enough light to keep them from tripping over themselves, but clouds were starting to roll in and they sometimes covered the moon, blocking it every few minutes and lighting Logan and Elsa's path with intervals of back and forth light and dark. It made staying upright almost impossible for Logan. His world was already spinning.

"I think maybe we should stop and rest," the blonde suggested, "I'm getting a little tired."

If Logan had the energy to spare he would have rolled his eyes. He saw right through her and it was a poor cover up for her concern. The only reason she asked in a way that suggested they do it for her was because he was practically dead on his feet and she didn't want to hurt whatever masculine pride she apparently thought he had by telling him he was too weak to keep going. Joke's on her though, if they stop he could go into hypovolemic shock and die.

He threw an annoyed glare over his shoulder, letting her know he had picked apart her words and saw what she really meant underneath. He also conveyed with the mean look that they were highly unwelcomed at this point in time, however noble her intentions were.

"No, I already told you. I'm f-"

He cut himself off when his boot caught on a tree root and he pitched forward. The pack slipped out of his hold as he landed hard on his hands and knees. Pain radiated up his injured arm at the sudden weight put on it and it gave way, causing Logan to fall on his side.

"Dammit!" he cursed, his world giving another sickening lurch, forcing the man to breath deep through his nose so he wouldn't dry heave on the forest floor.

Elsa dropped to her knees by his side, reaching out to help him into a sitting position.

"This is _not_ fine, Logan. What is wrong with you? Why is that cut affecting you so horribly when it's not even that big? That isn't normal."

"What are you, a doctor?" he said snidely, his chest heaving with the strain. "Get off my back."

"But-"

"No," he said firmly, shrugging off her hands while climbing to his feet, "we have to keep moving."

Stubborn as ever in his resolve, the ex-bandit forced them to continue their hike through the forest with Elsa trailing close behind. She didn't dare move past him, even though she easily could with how slow he was moving. She wanted to make sure she could help steady him should he need her to. And it wasn't very long before he stumbled forward again, tripping over his own feet. He lost his balance and fell on to his knees, his strength failing him as he fought to get control over himself. He cursed inside his head, but his body wasn't listening anymore. His limbs were heavy and exhaustion nipped at the corners of his vision.

Elsa stepped up behind him and tugged on his suspenders. "Come on, Logan. Get up!"

"M'fine," he mumbled almost incoherently, shrugging her off her again. The idea of sleep suddenly sounded so good right now, which was weird because a few minutes ago he was terrified of it for some reason. "Keep going. I'm just gonna to take a nap for a second."

"No! No naps!" she snapped in frustration. She reached out to grab his shirt to keep him from falling face first on the ground. It wasn't easy. His wet clothing and their supply pack weighed him down. She twisted her hands into his shirt and gave an almighty pull, forcing him back on his hands and knees. "Come on. We're almost there."

"There? There where?"

She had no idea. _Anywhere_ would do at this point. Just as long as it was warm and dry.

"Come on," she said again, determined to keep going. She knelt down next to him and moved in close to his body. "We are not spending another night in this forest. No more sleeping rough."

After some awkward maneuvering, Elsa slipped underneath Logan's upper body and wrapped his uninjured arm around her shoulders, allowing him to lean on the queen for support. She stumbled a bit when she lifted both of them back on their feet, but managed to keep upright even with the added weight of her weakened guide. Logan made a noise of protest, trying to pull away from her but unable to. For once, Elsa was the stronger of the two. It was her turn to be the unrelenting guide set with doing things her way and no one else's.

"What're you doin'?" he asked, his words slurring.

"Getting us somewhere safe, whether you can stay on your feet or not," she answered. "and _don't_ tell me just to leave you here because that is never going to happen, so don't even waste your breath by saying it."

Now Elsa was the one panting as they moved through the forest. Logan wasn't a big man, but she had gone through roughly the same things as he had back at the orchard house, minus the cut and the near-death experience, and exhaustion pawed at her, too. He did his best not to put his full weight on the smaller woman, but she was still the only thing keeping him from falling flat on his face. She prayed that they would come across something soon, be it someplace populated with people or just an abandoned barn they could hold up in for the rest of the night. Either would do just as long as it gave Logan the opportunity to patch himself up and do whatever it was he needed to do.

It wasn't too long before her prayers were answered. Through the trees and the snow, Elsa saw faint light streaming out what could only be a cabin about half a mile ahead. Her eyes widened at the sight and her grip tightened on Logan's arm.

"Oh! I see lights!" she gasped, feeling relief wash over her. "Look! There's someone's cabin up ahead!"

"Yay," Logan replied dryly, his head bobbing uselessly to the side.

Elsa rolled her eyes and readjusted her grip on his arm. "Oh just come on."

As they drew closer to the cabin, the queen hoped they would find help from whomever lived there. She couldn't help but draw parallels from the night she had first escaped Dag and stumbled on Tobias' land. Though the older gentlemen did end up helping Elsa in a big way by introducing her to Logan, he hadn't been so eager at first and nearly turned her away because of her involvement with the bandits. Hopefully the gang didn't have as potent of a reputation in this area as they did in their own. Elsa and Logan would have enough trouble being accepted into someone's care for just their questionable appearances alone.

Elsa didn't concern herself with who might be occupying the cabin. She didn't go through the endless circle of "should I or should I not?" that she went through when first approaching Tobias. Logan didn't have time for that. If soliciting the owner's help blew up in her face, then she would just deal with the shrapnel as it came at her. At this point, she would do just about anything for shelter, even engage complete strangers in a spontaneous, improvised song of quirky proportions like Rapunzel and her Yellow Duckling bunch of wannabes.

There was no hesitation. The queen marched her and Logan across the well-kept yard of the cabin and pulled them on to the front porch. There was only one light and it flickered dubiously overhead. She raised the arm that wasn't wrapped around Logan and knocked on the door. Her eyes absently traced the pretty designs etched into the dark wood as she waited with bated breath for someone to answer.

A thin, middle-aged woman in a modest dress and a mauve shawl opened the door, smiling brightly as she peered out on to her porch with a dish towel in her hands. Her hair was a soft brown, streaked with grey and pulled into a comfortable bun on the back of her head. She had a long face with sharp cheekbones and laugh lines gracing the corners of her mouth and sea green eyes. There was something very open about her, very approachable. She opened her mouth in a friendly greeting but stopped short when she got a clear look at Elsa and her wounded companion.

"Oh my," she frowned.

"Who is it, dear?" a man's voice sounded behind her before another figure appeared in the doorway.

He was also thin, and tall at an above average height with long features similar to the woman's. His hair was entirely grey and appeared to be thinning a bit along the steep widow's peak that his hairline dipped into. He also wore modest clothing that suggested a comfortable, middle class household. The man appeared just as welcoming as the woman, who Elsa could only assume was his wife - perhaps even more so. But he had an air of denseness about him with his slightly goofy smile, like naivety that most people had as children that he never quite outgrew.

Her and Logan must have been quite the sight for the couple; Elsa looking disheveled and out of sorts with Logan practically hanging off of her like dead weight.

Their gaze shifted to Logan almost simultaneously and they eyed him a little more warily than they did Elsa, though remarkably not in fear or suspicion. It was cautionary at best, but they didn't lose their soft expressions as they studied the odd pair on their porch. Elsa shifted uneasily. After almost a full minute of polite stares and no talking, the queen felt Logan tense up next to her and heard him sneer at them with annoyance.

"Jot a sketch, it'll last longer."

"Logan!" Elsa hissed, giving him a disapproving glare before turning back to the couple with an apologetic smile. It was open and disarming, sugary-sweet like Anna's when she wanted something. "Please, you'll have to excuse him. As you can see he's in a bad way and needs medical attention. The blood loss is making him a little short-tempered."

She gestured to Logan's injured arm hanging uselessly at his side with a nod. Earlier in the night he had used his navy blue scarf as a makeshift dressing to bind his wound. It helped stop the blood flow a little, but by then it had already started to soak through the dark material. The husband leaned in closer and peered through the poor lighting of the porch, squinting his eyes and letting out a low whistle.

"Wow, that does look pretty bad now that ya mention it. You should have that looked at, young man."

"Gee, thanks mister," Logan replied, earning himself another glare from Elsa. "Wish I'd thought of something that obvious."

His sarcasm went right over the husband's head. He gave Logan's arm another look, nodding confidently. "Yep, I definitely would if I were you. I'm no doctor, though, and I'm afraid there isn't one for at least a couple more miles North."

"There's a first aid kit in our pack. We just need shelter from the snow and a warm place to patch him up," Elsa said. "There isn't much we can offer you in return, but we could really use the help. I don't think we'll get much further in this weather and he's about ready to collapse."

The couple exchanged thoughtful glances, seemingly holding a conversation with just their eyes. It didn't look as if they were completely opposed to the idea of letting her and Logan stay. In fact, nothing about this unusual situation seemed to be bothering them at all. They looked just as friendly and welcoming to a bloody and bruised pair of travelers as they would to a group of little girls selling cookies.

"Well, how can we say no to that, honey?" the husband asked his wife.

"I don't think we can, dear," the wife replied, turning her gaze back to Elsa and Logan. "You two look like decent people."

'_Oh we really don't_,' Elsa thought. 'a_nd we really aren't. But we won't kill and rob you in your sleep so I guess I can't argue._'

"Who are we to deny a couple of young folks in need? We won't ask anything of you. We have everything we could ever need, right here," the wife motioned to her and her husband's intertwined hands, raising them to show off the wedding bands tarnished with age on their fingers. "I've got him."

"And I've got her," her husband finished and they shared a laugh.

"Oh give me a break," Logan slurred under his breath, causing Elsa to jostle him roughly.

The queen would admit that their affection for each other was a little saccharine, but their home meant shelter for the night so she couldn't care less. It didn't really bother her all that much, especially considering that she had survived Anna and Kristoff's puppy-love phase, where they were overly affectionate all the time and couldn't stand to be away from each other for more than five minutes. Compared to that, this was nothing. Elsa actually thought the older couple's devotion for each other was kind of sweet. It was obvious by the way they held themselves that they had been married for quite sometime now and it was always nice to see two people still deeply in love even through all the hardships that came with marriage.

"I'm Sidney," the husband introduced, giving them another bright smile while wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulders and squeezing her tight, "and this is my gorgeous wife, Nikki."

"Oh you," Nikki giggled, slapping his arm playfully before motioning for Elsa and Logan to enter their home. "Come on in, you two. We'll warm you right up and give you a little something to eat

Elsa gave them a breathy 'Thank You' as they turned away from the door and disappeared into their home. She moved to follow, but Logan let out a noise of protest, turning them both away from the couple's front door.

"These people are a pleasantville nightmare. Let's go somewhere else."

"There _is_ nowhere else," Elsa argued pulling them back. "We're complete strangers to them and yet they're willing to open their home to us, so stop being rude!"

"But their names rhyme!" he whined childishly.

"I don't care! It's snowing out, we're both exhausted, and you're bleeding to death from a four inch cut!" the queen snapped. "So suck it up, you big baby!"

Near powerless to break the blonde woman's hold on him, Logan allowed himself to be pulled along, albeit begrudgingly.

"Fine. But if they end up being serial killers who serve cups of cyanide tea to their guests and dumps their dead bodies in a ditch behind their house, I'm blaming you."

"There's nothing wrong with these people. They're sweet."

"They're nauseating."

"Don't be such a drama queen."

She forced them both forward past the threshold of the cozy home.

The two-story cabin was spacious and modestly furnished with a fireplace burning in the main room. It had a warm, lofty atmosphere to it that mirrored the couple's welcoming nature. Elsa took notice of the rosemaling that decorated many of the cabin's furnishings. It felt comforting to see the familiar motif that heavily influenced Arendelle's own culture. It was the first tangible piece of evidence they had come across that proved they were on the right track back to her kingdom.

Sidney closed the door behind Elsa and Logan and bolted the latch. He opened his mouth to offer to take their coats, but stopped short when he realized they weren't wearing any. He faltered a little, reaching for something elsa to say to his guests and failing until his wife stepped in and saved the situation from becoming awkward.

"I'm sorry, I don't believe we've asked for your names yet."

"That's alright. This isn't exactly an ideal situation for a first meeting anyways," Elsa replied, letting out an uneasy chuckle. "I'm Elsa and this is Logan."

"So where are ya'll from then?" Sidney asked as he walked over to put more wood on the fire.

"Arendelle-"

"-none of your business," they answered simultaneously.

Elsa dug her nails deep into the skin of Logan's arm, causing the man to hiss in pain and pull his arm off her shoulders, using a nearby hat rack to steady himself instead. She sent him a glare that said, '_Are you always such a jerk when you meet new people?_', but then she remembered _their_ first meeting and exhaled through her nose. Right, question answered.

"That sounds lovely," Nikki smiled, still not at all perturbed by Logan's rudeness. "Never been there ourselves, but we hear it's just breathtaking in the Summertime. The village down the road from here sometimes gets exports from Arendelle. Just a stray crate or two with clothing and jewelry."

Unlike her husband who seemed entirely oblivious, there was a slight twitch to the older woman's face that suggested she was aware of the sarcasm behind Logan's words, but was consciously choosing not to acknowledge or take offence by it. Whether that was because she believed Elsa when she said Logan was only being snippy because of his injury, or for some other reason, she couldn't tell.

"In fact, my Sidney got me this beautiful shawl for our anniversary a few years back," Nikki continued as she unwrapped the shawl from around her shoulders. "The vendor was from Arendelle. A nice gentleman of Sami descent, I believe he said."

She held the shawl out and unfolded it so Elsa could see the full design. It was a little worn and frayed at the ends, obviously the woman's favorite piece of clothing, but as a whole it looked well taken care of and the queen could easily make out the designs etched into the soft, mauve material. Again, it was embroidered with a simplistic Rosemaling design akin to the ones found around her home, faint and subtle but stretching over the length of the pashmina. It even had the Arendelle crest on it; a small, yellow crocus flower stitched into one of the corners. The shawl seemed authentic and very well made, Elsa concluded. No doubt Sidney had to shell out a pretty penny for it.

"It's lovely," the queen complimented with a smile.

"Thank you," Nikki replied as she wrapped the shawl back around her shoulders. She looked up at her husband. "I suppose I should show our guests to their room for the evening. Why don't you check on dinner, dear? We don't want to burn it like last time."

Sidney threw back his head and let out a hearty laugh. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you? The turkey didn't turn out _that_ bad!"

Nikki put her hands on her hips. "What are you talking about, you old fool? It was burnt to a crisp! I had half a mind to stick it in your Christmas stocking like a lump of coal."

"You silly woman. Not everyone can be a master cook like you, my love," he chuckled fondly as he reached out to wrap his arms around his wife's waist.

He gave her a kiss on the tip of her nose, making her giggle and blush. Elsa cleared her throat uncomfortably at their display and let her eyes wander to a suddenly very interesting carving of a blue jay on their fireplace mantle.

"Don't try to sweet talk me," Nikki chided, slapping Sidney gently on the shoulder. He pretended to be deeply wounded by it in return.

"Bleeding to death over here!" Logan cut in from where he was still leaning on the hat rack.

The couple collected themselves. Nikki shooed her husband off into the kitchen after giving him a swift peck on the lips. Elsa looked at Logan, expecting to find him making a face again at all the affection, but instead she saw him staring at Nikki's shawl with a blank look on his face. The woman didn't take any notice as she motioned for him and Elsa to follow her up the nearby staircase. As she went up the stairs first, Elsa waited at the bottom for Logan to make his way over, his movements still slow and sluggish.

"What's your problem now?" she whispered as soon as he was close enough. "Why were you looking at her like that?"

"It's nothing," he dismissed, holding on to the staircase railing with a death grip.

The staircase was narrow and not wide enough to allow two people to climb it side by side so Elsa went up behind Logan, but she made sure to keep on her toes just in case the thirteen steps proved to be the last leg and Logan finally collapsed for good.

She reached out and tugged sharply on one of his suspenders in warning, almost making him lose his balance.

Logan halted and turned to look down at her.

"Do. not. do. that. again." he told her, deathly serious before turning back around.

"Don't you dare think about stealing anything from these people."

"What?" he looked at her from underneath his arm before realizing what she meant. He rolled his eyes. "No, it's not like that. My mother had a shawl just like hers. It didn't have any of the designs, but it was the same color. Wore it all the time when I was young."

She blinked at him. "Oh."

The rest of the climb was made in silence as the two followed after their kind host. Logan managed to reach the second floor without passing out, but his breathing became ragged and Elsa wonder just how much further he could push himself. She decided not to ask, just in case he still had some venom left over to spit at her.

On their way to the only spare room in the cabin, Nikki stopped by the washroom and filled a clay bowl with warm water and grabbed a clean towel for them to use.

"Here we are," Nikki announced when they reached the last door in the hallway. She opened it to reveal a decent-sized room with a standard bed and furnishing. It had the bare basics like a lounge chair, a wardrobe and a small writing desk, making it more than functional for the two travelers. "This should suit you and your husband just fine, I hope."

"I'm certain it will, Thank You," Elsa smiled at her, taking the bowl of water and the towel when the older woman held them out.

She didn't waste time correcting the older woman about her and Logan's status. The less the couple knew about her and her companion, the better. The two seemed so in love and happy together, even after so many years. Elsa would never forgive herself if her and Logan caused something bad to happen to them all because they were kind enough to help a pair of strangers in their hour of need. It was different than it was with Tobias. The older gentleman knew what he was getting into by helping Elsa and he had the means to protect himself from Dag and his men. He had nothing left to lose. Sidney and Nikki had everything.

Moreover, they still needed to patch up Logan's arm. And it was Elsa's fault anyways for not specifying the unique nature of their relationship during their introductions.

"Well, I suppose I'll leave you to it then," Nikki said. "If you need anything more, extra towels, pillows, blankets - just holler down the stairs and one of us will be right up. Dinner should be ready in an hour or so. We're having ham and cornbread this evening. I picked up the dough fresh from the market this morning."

Elsa thanked her again as she stepped inside the room and closed the door. Logan had shuffled into the room seconds after Nikki opened the door and was already digging through their pack looking for the first aid kit. When he found it, he shrugged off his suspenders and stripped away his blue scarf and shirt, letting them fall to the floor before lowering himself on to the bed. He popped open the kit and leafed through its contents, taking out sutures, a needle and a roll of gauze. A soft curse escaped his lips when he realized the kit didn't contain any alcohol. He would have to use the water to sterilize the needle and clean his cut. Hopefully it would be enough to ward off any infection.

"Do you need any help?" Elsa asked, reaching down to collect his discarded clothing and place them on a nearby chair. He was shirtless again, but it didn't fluster her like it did back at the inn. If anything, she grimaced when she got another look at the grisly scars that marred his chest.

Logan didn't look up as he reached over to the bedside table and dipped the needle into the bowl of water. "I'm not exactly a novice at this, thanks."

If Elsa had paid any attention at all to their supplies before they lost them, she would have noticed the overabundance of medical kits Logan had stashed in just about every pack they carried. Kits consisting mainly of medical string, needles, alcohol and bandages, lots and lots of bandages. But obviously she hadn't if she was this blindsided by the revelation of his condition.

"Fine. I was just offering."

"Well don't bother," he snapped. "Like I told you twenty times before, I can handle it."

Wow, he really _was_ short-tempered tonight, he realized.

Guilt gnawed at the back of his pounding skull, but he forced it away in favor of attaching a suture to the needle. It was difficult with how badly his hands were shaking, but after a few tries he managed to tie it. He looked down at his arm and felt his stomach churn with how bad it looked. It was going to be painful stitching up his cut, especially with all the bruising around it.

Elsa left him to it. The mere thought of watching him run a needle through his damaged skin made her feel a little queasy. The queen walked over to an ornate mirror hanging on the bedroom wall. She would wash up properly once they were fully settled, but for now she decided to make her hair look a little less like a haggard witch's. Once she fixed up her braid and cleaned some of the dirt off her face, she took a seat in the nearby cushioned chair and watched Logan as he worked.

A little while later when he was about halfway done, she raised her head from where it was propped up on her hand and looked at him with concern, pointing at his face.

"Oh no, your nose is bleeding now too."

Logan looked up from his arm and ran the back of his hand underneath his nose. He pulled it back and discovered that Elsa was right. He didn't even show his frustration this time at the new streak of blood staining his skin. He just went back to stitching up his cut, letting the blood drip freely from his nose until he was finished. Elsa watched as he wrapped his arm tight with a long strip of gauze and pressed the towel Nikki gave them against his nose.

"What's wrong with you?" she finally asked. "I mean, what's _really_ wrong with you?"

"It's nothing," he replied, his voice muffled by the cloth.

"It's not nothing," she shot back, her eyes taking in his pale complexion. "Is this what Dag meant back at the orchard? Is this what he meant by your 'condition'?"

Logan slowly closed his eyes and nodded with something akin to defeat, knowing he couldn't deny things any longer.

"Yeah. This is what he meant."

"What's wrong with you?" she asked again.

"I already told you. I got the royal disease."

"But what does that _mean_?"

He let out a sigh and slumped down deeper on the bed. There was nothing he hated more than having to explain his biggest weakness to people.

"It means there's something wrong with my blood."

"Your blood?"

"Yeah. It's something I was born with," Logan replied. "You know how when you trip and scrape your knee? Or when you accidentally prick yourself with a pin? The cut bleeds just a little bit, but then it stops on its own after, right? Well, that's called clotting. Your blood does that when you get a cut. It's what keeps it from bleeding too long and allows it to scab over and heal. My blood doesn't do that. There's something wrong with it that keeps it from clotting when I get hurt and I bleed longer than a normal person would. I either have to wait a long time for it to stop on its own, or stitch it close if it's too big. I could pass out from blood loss if I don't and it makes me more vulnerable to infection."

"And it's called the Royal Disease? Why?"

The knowledge of Logan's condition was entirely knew to Elsa. One would think since it was called the _Royal_ Disease, she would have at least heard of it from somewhere, but obviously not.

"I don't know. That's what Barley called it once. He heard it somewhere in England. Apparently, their queen's son has it. I never had a name for it until then so I decided to keep using it. When I was a kid, I was always in and out of the doctor's because I would cut myself climbing trees or messing around on the cliffs behind the village. It's a rare condition and there wasn't much the doctor could do other than patch me up when I got hurt. My mother didn't really know how to handle me because of it."

"Oh..." came Elsa's eloquent reply. "I'm sorry. I never noticed you were-"

"Broken? It's not very noticeable unless I get hurt so I don't see why you would."

"That's not what I was going to say, but I'm still sorry for not noticing earlier. Maybe I could have helped prevent this somehow if I had known."

"I doubt it. Dag caught us both off guard back there."

Logan could handle the bruising aspect of his condition. The bruising was nothing to him, just an annoying byproduct of more troublesome symptoms. It was the bleeding that he needed to watch out for. Once someone or something managed to draw blood from him, all bets were off and any injuries beyond that point had the potential to become life-threatening.

That was why both the beatings he had received from those gamblers when he was a teenager, and from Dag years later had been so severe. He spared Elsa most of the details, preferring to keep his condition to himself, but his injuries from those two instances were bad, much worse than he made them sound when he told her about them. He wouldn't be exaggerating if he said he had been on the verge of death both times.

Even getting his tattoo had been excruciating. He felt the pain of the needle twice as much and took twice as long to recover from it. He had bruising and random bleeding for over a month afterwards, and the markings nearly got infected more times than he could count. And what was worse, Logan never even wanted the stupid thing. Back when Dag became leader, he forced his men to get the tattoos as a sort of initiation and a test of their willingness to commit. Dictated by Dag, the higher your rank in the gang was the larger and more obvious your tattoo ended up being, which landed Logan with one on his left arm that started on his neck and ended at his elbow in series of tribal lines of a mixed Norwegian/Celtic origin.

Long after the pain had faded and the tattoo fully healed, he still flinched at the sight of it every time he looked in a mirror. It served only as a constant reminder of his past mistakes.

Logan looked around for his shirt, suddenly feeling a little too exposed with both his tattoo and scars on display. He spotted it on the other the side of the room, where Elsa had hung it on a chair after he had taken it off. He moved to try to sit up so he could grab it, but received a wave of nausea for his troubles. He looked back up at the ceiling and waited for it to pass before seeking out the other occupant in the little room.

He blinked slowly, watching Elsa stare out the window at the snowflakes falling. She had been quiet since she left Logan to finish patching himself up, he had almost forgotten she was in the room. His mind wasn't exactly in a great place at the moment, and probably wouldn't be for a while. He hoped she realized that and didn't take anything he said too seriously. He already regretted snapping at her earlier.

Elsa didn't want to be the first to speak. They were finally in a safe, stable environment where they could rest. It was inevitable that the subject of her ice powers would make itself known. She waited for Logan to say something - _anything_ about her powers. Not a word had been said about them since the river and it was absolutely maddening.

"So," Logan finally spoke up, breaking the silence as he leaned back against the wall the bed was pushed against with his legs hanging over the side. "Is your last name really Snow, or is that just an ironic coincidence?"

Elsa let out a sigh, still facing the window. Her eyes slid shut as she reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"You're unbelievable."

He blinked at her lazily, his complexion still drained of color. "What?"

She opened her eyes and looked over at him. "Is that really how you're going to start this conversation?"

"Sorry, my ability to generate snappy one-liners is a bit messed up right now. I'd try again, but I'm currently seeing three of you and you all look kinda pissed, so I guess it's safe to assume the rest of my game is off too."

"Unbelievable," she repeated, shaking her head. "Do you ever react to anything like a human being?"

"Well, considering the circumstances, I don't really know how I'm supposed to react. I doubt anybody in this situation would know how to react. It isn't exactly a common occurrence to find out someone you know can shoot ice on demand."

The queen stood from her chair, now frustrated with the ex-bandit. "I realize that, Logan, but this is how you react to _everything,_ _all_ the time. You downplay the seriousness of it with sarcasm and you turn it into some kind of joke!"

"How do you want me to react then, huh?" he demanded, his voice raising to match hers. They weren't yelling at each other, but they definitely weren't using their inside voices, either. "Do you want me to shout? Do you want me to yell at you for not telling me about this? Do you want me to scream and call you an ice-flinging freak? Is that what you were expecting from me?"

"Yes! - I mean, no. No, of course not," she raised her hands to her head and gripped at the roots of her hair, conflicted. "Oh heck, I don't know! Just anything but your usual stupid jokes!"

"Is that what you expect from everybody who finds out, or is that just what you were expecting of _me_? Because I would really like to know. I thought we talked about this already. I don't do business with people who lie to me. I know at the time I probably sounded like a dick saying that to you, but did you really think you couldn't tell me this? Even further down the road when we finally got used to being around each other?"

"How was I supposed to tell you about this?" Elsa said with a bitter laugh. "It's unbelievable! It's impossible! How was I supposed to reveal something this big to you when even my own family couldn't handle it? I've been locked away because of my powers, Logan! Locked away in my room for years and then locked away in an actual _dungeon_ with chains by a bad person masquerading as a good one. Not to mention the fact that Dag threatened me out of using them. He threatened to kill Anna if I tried to fight back!"

"I told you I wouldn't let that happen!" Logan shouted, throwing his hands in the air with a sudden burst of energy. "God! Why is your opinion of me still lower than dirt? I told you everything you wanted to know about my past as a bandit, about Barley, about Dag. I relived shit I haven't thought about in _years_ just to make_ you_ feel better! So you would trust me more! You even had me feeling guilty about keeping my past from you, which is total bullshit by the way, since the whole time you were hiding _this_ from me. You're such a hypocrite, Sugar."

"Well what about you and _this_?" she gestured to his sick appearance and injured arm. "You don't think I would've appreciated being warned about this? Seriously, you look half dead right now!"

"Careful, Blondie. You're treading on some very thin ice right now," he warned, no pun intended. "This is a medical condition, not some mystical ability to freeze things. This is something that makes me weak. Makes me vulnerable. It made me the weird kid at school who could bleed to death from a paper cut! It's the biggest inconvenience of my life!"

"So are my powers!" Elsa shouted back.

Silence fell over the room then, both occupants still feeling the heat of the argument, but at a loss of anything more to say. Muffled kitchen noises and soft conversation from somewhere below their feet reminded them that they weren't alone in the house. Logan let out a groan and rubbed his eyes, starving off his desire to pass out in mid conversation.

"Jesus, they must think we're damn lunatics by now."

Elsa flopped down in the cushioned chair next to the window. "Or that fighting gets us hot or something."

"Did you just make a sex joke?" he asked dubiously, pulling his hand away from his eyes.

Her nose twisted up. "Yeah, I think I did."

"Nice."

The queen let out a half-hearted scoff. She propped an elbow up on the arm of the chair and rested her chin on her palm. They sat in silence again as the remnants of their argument finally dissipated. She glanced over at Logan to make sure he hadn't passed out on her and frowned at how terrible he still looked. With a sigh, she pushed up from her chair and walked over to the bedside table where the forgotten bowl of water was. She picked it up with both hands and made a thin layer of ice coat the colorful ceramic, chilling the liquid inside. Setting it back down, she grabbed a nearby empty glass and filled it with water.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything before," she said, holding the glass out to Logan as a peace offering. "It had nothing to do with how I see you as a person, I promise. People never react very well when they find out what I can do and I guess I just didn't want you to judge me."

"Look at me, Elsa," he said, gesturing to the mess that was himself. "Do I look I'm in any position to judge someone? Hell no."

He reached up and took the glass with a shaky hand, bringing it up to his mouth and taking a long drink from it.

"I know, it's just sometimes my fear gets away from me and I shut down, having no idea what to do or how to think for myself. I've hurt people with my powers, people I care very deeply about. Not on purpose, of course, but sometimes whether you do something by accident or on purpose doesn't matter. What happens, happens, and you can't take it back."

"Well, they did a pretty good job saving me back at the orchard," he muttered around the rim of the glass before taking another drink.

'_Yeah, they did, didn't they?_' Elsa thought. '_Has that ever happened before? I honestly can't remember._'

"And for the record, intended or unintended _does_ matter," Logan added after the rest of the contents of the glass were drained. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and handed the glass back to Elsa. "At least when you've hurt someone it was an accident, and accidents can always be forgiven, so don't you worry your pretty blonde head about that."

"Yeah, right," Elsa scoffed, setting the glass back on the table before flopping back down into her chair in a very unladylike manner. "What ever you say."

"No, I mean it," he insisted. "It's when you hurt someone on purpose that changes everything. It eats away at you from the inside, even years later. When you do something by accident, you're never yourself when it happens, not really. But doing something on purpose always exposes parts of yourself that you never knew existed, especially when someone gets hurt because of it, and it's not always pretty. Trust me, I know."

"Maybe so, but it hardly matters in this case. Dag isn't after us anymore. Right now he's on his way to Arendelle to attack Anna and the rest of the kingdom all because of me." Her head fell into her hands and her fingers weaved through her hair, pulling tight on the roots until they hurt. She whispered into her palms, "what have I done?"

"Absolutely nothing," Logan answered. "Except waste the effort saving me and evoking the full blunt of Dag's vindictive nature."

"Oh don't get all humble on me now," Elsa sighed, picking her head back up. "It really doesn't suit you."

"I'm not saying I don't appreciate it, because I do. It's just you should've ran when I told you to. I knew sooner or later something like this would happen and you shouldn't have wasted an opportunity to escape because of me. You know what they say about how violent lives can only end violently."

She shook her head, still adamant in her opinion that choosing to save Logan's life wasn't a waste. Even after seeing that her guide wasn't quite as invincible as he pretended to be, she still believed saving him was a better choice than trying to escape on her own and leaving him to die.

"You don't deserve getting your head cut off any more than I deserve being locked away. You and me, this situation we're in-" she gestured around the room, broadly speaking, "we're both just products of other people's choices. We're responsible for our own actions, but I don't think either of us really ever had a choice."

Elsa's mind flashed back to the time when she first used her powers in a fight. When those guards attacked her in her ice castle, the queen's retaliation had started out in clear self-defense, but the line blurred shockingly fast the easier dodging their attacks and projecting her own became. So much so, without realizing it Elsa found herself on the verge of committing an atrocious act. Intentional or not, if Prince Hans hadn't stopped her from killing those guards, then she would have lost a very important piece of her that day, one that she doubted she would ever be able to get back.

It scared her how _easy_ it had been at the time, disarming and incapacitating her attackers with only a few flicks of her wrists. She had been flying too high on fear, adrenaline and power, and for a moment she _wanted_ to keep pushing. She _wanted_ to release her anger on the first people who dared to cross her. Because after all, they didn't mean anything more to her than she did to them; an enemy to concur and obstacles in her way. If what Logan just said had any truth to it, then that dark moment showed quite a lot about who Elsa supposedly was and he was right about it not being pretty. It was terrifying.

"I'm the monster and you're the thug," the queen sighed melancholy. "When it comes down to it, that's who we really are."

"We always have a choice. It might not always be an easy one to make and we might not like the consequences, but we do always a choice," Logan argued. "And don't let how other people see you affect how you see yourself, Elsa. It never helps anything and they're usually wrong. It's their own ignorance. People want to believe that the monsters in life are beings who can be easily recognized. They want to believe that the person who can shoot ice is a monster and they force themselves to forget that behind the powers, she's a young woman with emotions and fears just like them. You can do anything to anyone if you dehumanize them enough. They turn on things they don't understand and they're too terrified to face the truth that monsters don't always have sharp claws, or pointy horns, or a destructive power.

So they latch on to beings like you because they know that there are monsters out in the world, but they're too scared to turn around and realize that the 'monsters' may very well be someone they know, someone they trust, or even someone they love. And I don't blame them for it because it's a frightening thing to realize. But it still makes them stupid and wrong if they don't."

"You're being surprisingly philosophical today," Elsa remarked with just a tiny hint of amusement despite the heavy gloom of the conversation.

"Blood loss. Don't hold it against me."

Logan wasn't into the habit of going out of his way to make people feel better about themselves, but it irked him that Elsa thought so little of herself because of the many things other people have said about her. He didn't know where Elsa has been in life, or what she might have done to earn such mean opinions from people, and he wasn't going to pretend that he did. But from what he could see, the woman wasn't a monster. Not even close to one. Monsters don't risk life and limb, jumping off waterfalls to save their loved ones. And monsters definitely didn't endanger the lives of said loved ones to save a stranger from a death that he more than likely deserved. It wasn't fair that Elsa should think herself so low just because she could do something others didn't think was possible.

In regards to himself, Elsa's powers were a difficult thing to grasp, because it was like she had said, it should have been impossible for someone to have control over ice and snow. However, never one for religion or divine intervention, Logan had always been more of a "seeing is believing" type of guy, and well, he _definitely_ saw Elsa shoot Dag with a bolt of ice, so he guessed by default he believed in magic now.

At least when it came to Elsa and her powers. He was still firmly on the fence about unicorns and trolls.

"Look, I'm way too messed up right now to argue further on this, so let's just agree to disagree," he offered. "But just as a quick closing argument because I like having the last word, I understand why you did what you did. I'm not sure if I would react any differently if things were reversed, so I guess I forgive you."

"Do you genuinely mean that, or is that just the blood loss talking?" she asked, obviously hoping it was the former, because surprisingly enough Logan's opinion of her mattered to her.

"Hell if I know," he replied, giving her a weak smile. "It just kinda hurts that you didn't tell me the truth. We could've figured something out."

"Maybe we still could," she suggested softly, turning to look out the bedroom window at the still falling snow. "We still have Dag and his men to worry about, after all."

"Don't worry, Sugar. We'll give them hell next time they try anything funny. I told you that was the last time anyone got the drop on me. They won't know what...they won't...we will..."

Elsa turned from the window and looked at Logan when his words started to trail off. Concern marred her features when she saw him slump further against the wall as the rest of his body went limp. The med kit that still sat open on his lap, slipped off and landed on the rug with a muffled thud, scattering its contents across the ground.

"Logan?"

She moved closer to him and gently shook his knee. When he didn't move, she realized that he was out cold. His energy finally ran empty and it made him pass out in mid-sentence. The queen studied the rise and fall of his bare chest before exhaling heavily through her nose. Without worrying about noise since Logan was now oblivious to the world, Elsa collected up the medical supplies on the floor and placed them back in the kit before closing the lid and putting it back on the bedside table, making sure it was within reach just in case it was needed again later. After that, she reached down and unlaced Logan's boots and slipped them off, making it easier for her to move him so he was laying flat on the bed.

Once she had him in a comfortable position on the bed with a patchwork quilt pulled over him, Elsa went back to her chair. She let out a long sigh as she sank back down into the cushions and looked out the window, staring vacantly into the night. The smell of cooking meat and baked bread wafted up from downstairs, reminding the queen how long it had been since they had last eaten. A low rumble sounded from her stomach, but she ignored it in favor of staying where she was, too reluctant to leave Logan's side with him in such a poor state.

Despite his assurances that none of this was the queen's fault, Elsa still felt responsible for everything that had happened. If she hadn't kept her powers a secret for so long, then maybe her and Logan wouldn't have been so easily captured by Dag's men and the ex-bandit wouldn't have been wounded by that arrow. She could have actually done something to help, instead of just letting Logan pull her along like some inept old woman who couldn't defend herself. She wondered why she couldn't be more like her sister in these kinds of situations.

With how open and spontaneous Anna was, it made her much more adaptable than Elsa. It made her a quick thinker in times of danger. It was no doubt the reason why the young princess was never a liability to Kristoff on their journey to the North Mountain, even in the very beginning. It wasn't so much as Kristoff escorting Anna as it was him tagging along as extra muscle. Anna had no problem carrying her own weight. Elsa wouldn't say that she herself was a damsel in distress in her own journey, but it definitely took the queen longer to find her footing in fast, crazy situations. There were many times where Logan had saved them both with his quick thinking because her mind had lagged.

Elsa was the more practical one of the two sisters. She had to be because of the volatile nature of her powers and how intimately they hinged on her emotions. But that wasn't an excuse for not taking action sooner back at the orchard. For heaven's sake, it took the threat of Logan getting his head chopped off for her to finally do something useful. There were no longer any excuses for using, or not using, her powers. Elsa couldn't hide behind the fear of losing control anymore, not since the Great Thaw. Even more so right now because her powers were now completely in the open and Logan had been far more accepting of them than she gave him credit for. She owed it to both him and Anna to stop inhibiting herself, lest it once again almost cause the death of her sister and her new friend. (Yes, Logan was her friend now. He did more than enough to earn that.)

The key to controlling her powers really was the simplest thing. And it wasn't just love. It was her. It had always just been her. Elsa merely had to change how she _looked_ at a situation. She had to think of all the ways she could help Logan by keeping her powers in check, instead of all the ways she could hurt him if she lost control. Just the smallest shift in perspective made the biggest difference when it came to her powers.

Perspective. That was the true key to controlling her powers. Love was just the most powerful motivator and that was why Grand Pabbie had pushed her in that direction when she was a little girl. But that didn't mean it was the only motivator and Elsa was still learning about the many different conduits there were in life, and when and where they could be at her disposal.

As of now she had chosen strength and vigilance, to help her protect the quaint little cabin that posed as her and Logan's sanctuary for the night. She took watch at the bedroom window, staring out into the snow and searching for any signs of danger, because for tonight Elsa was the protector and the other occupants in the cabin were her wards. Logan would be out for hours and the queen doubted Sidney and Nikki understood the seriousness of the situation. So that left Elsa to pick up the slack.

She promised herself that this time she wouldn't hesitate to use her powers on anyone who threatened to shatter the fragile peace that settled over the cabin.

* * *

**AN: For those of you who still don't understand Logan's condition, he's a Hemophiliac. It's a blood disorder where a person's blood doesn't clot properly, causing constant or abnormal bleeding.** **Hemophilia results from a missing or deficient protein needed for clotting. It affects men while women are the carriers for the gene, passed on from mother to son. Symptoms include constant bleeding following injury or surgery, spontaneous bleeding, excessive bruising, pain and swelling resulting from joint and muscle bleeds, unexplained nosebleeds, and brain bleeds.**

**It's been a known disorder for quite a while. It was associated with royal bloodlines like Queen Victoria of England, who ruled during the time Frozen takes place, and the youngest son of Tsar Nicholas of Russia (The royal family the movie "Anastasia" is based off of). Hence the nickname "The Royal Disease". **

**Logan doesn't know the medical name for Hemophilia. In 1828, the disorder was first labeled as "haemophilia", but I doubt that was widespread.** **It's a rare disorder and there probably wasn't much common knowledge on it. People were still classifying it as a disease. He only knows it as "the Royal Disease" because of Barley. There are three levels for the disorder; mild, moderate, and severe. I'd classify Logan as a moderate Hemophiliac, where he doesn't have the most extreme symptoms, but still severe enough to cause problems if he gets injured and doesn't get treated.**

**There is no known cure for Hemophilia, but there are treatments. Those won't be featured though, since none of them were available until the 1900's.**

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	15. Cabin Fever

**AN: Thank ****you all who reviewed last chapter, registered members and anonymous guests alike. I really appreciate the love! ****An extra special shout out to thearendork and wintermoonqueen on Tumblr for their support of this story. And also shout out to Batman1809 for helping me revamp my story's summary.**

**Featured song: "No Day But Today", Idina Menzel.**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (12/2/2016)**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or its characters.**

* * *

_In the depths of his subconscious, Logan was bombarded by a myriad of memories and experiences of a life both long past and painfully present in the most intimate ways. _

_They sat heavy under his skin and put a pressure on his bones he couldn't ignore as the surrounding world continued to twist and fold around him like a kaleidoscope, flashing half formed mock ups of his life while he remained stationary. Set at a fixed point._

_He wasn't in the driver's seat of this lucid odyssey, even though he was partly aware of what was occurring. He was unable to dictate what was being shown to him and where he was being taken. He could only stand frozen in one spot, trying to hold on to a stable state of mind, hoping the spinning behind his eyes would stop soon before he impacted face first into something nasty from his past that he would rather remain detached from._

_For a time he stood on the edge of his childhood home, just where the loose gravel and dirt of the front yard met the green grass of the surrounding treeline, watching vacantly as people came and went from his view at a speed twice the normal rate. _

_Give or take sixteen years of a bleak, stagnant childhood filled with empty rooms and frequent trips to the doctor after running around under the guise of a rambunctious kid, hiding a malignant tumor of frustration and rejection behind eroding innocence before miscalculating a step and busting open the skin of his knee. A childhood of being excluded from neighboring children's games and occasionally being picked on for his medical condition and being a secondhand minority (oh how those remarks hurt, even if they weren't aimed to cut him down directly)._

_From where he stood, he was able to see the porch of his old home, with an antique rocking chair perched on the wide curve where the porch wrapped around the side of the house. His mother's rocking chair. The chair she would sit in for hours, rocking back and forth in a slow, maddening rhythm that seemed to symbolize everything Logan hated about his early years with a series of creaks that sounded like mocking laughter if he listened too long._

_He could see his mother's shape, something he could make out even in pitch darkness, sitting in the chair, with her back towards him and her mauve shawl wrapped around her willowy shoulders. He could see the mass of dark brown, corkscrew curls that made up her short hair. He remembered how they would bounce up around her ears when she walked. She was taller than average, with long legs and a brisk stride. He remembered trailing behind her in the town market as a small boy, holding to the skirt of her dress to keep from falling behind as his mother scanned the market with her sharp, intelligent eyes for the items she sought out. High and wild hair, curls that couldn't be tamed. A stark contradiction of how he had known her, and a remnant of the woman he knew she used to be before he was born._

_She was rocking away in her chair, bathed in the shade of the porch. He could make out one of her hands raised toward her neck, light brown fingers fiddling with the tiger's eye necklace he knew was resting against her sternum. The one with the amber striped beads that complimented her hazel eyes beautifully. _

_It was funny, he thought, how he was able to recall such minor, insignificant details about her after so many years apart, even when her actual face was shrouded in obscurity more often than not._

_Despite how despondent she was towards him growing up, Logan held no resentment towards her. How could he? She was his mother. And there had been some good times between them. Even he would admit it hadn't been all bad. He might describe her as a hollow shell of a woman, but she had been undoubtedly remarkable in spite of that, with all she had overcome in her life, even if Logan hadn't been alive yet to witness it. He didn't think too deeply about her, because whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not, he missed her. He knew why her rocking chair was angled away from him. If she were facing him it would only reinforce the fact that he was starting to forget what she looked like._

_In his daze, he moved towards the porch, but frowned when his feet remained rooted to the ground. His environment began to shift and take on a new form like a scene change in a play, leaving his mother and his childhood home to crumble into ashes as he came up on a different milestone in his life. _

_It was an accelerated timeline that he had no choice but to follow along with. He wondered briefly if he was dying and that this was what people with near-death experiences meant when they said their life flashed before their eyes, but the lack of anything substantial led him to believe he might just be dreaming instead._

_The kaleidoscope vision returned and he was watching his life in snapshots. Him as a young teenager, learning to fend for himself, sleeping under cold bridges in the pouring rain, then growing older and experiencing many of life's cruelties first hand. There was a fire for every experience, an explosion of different sensations tacked on to the ends like a comet's tail. A near nomadic lifestyle, moving from place to place without the barest hint of a permanent destination. Moans in the dark and bare hands against naked skin of faceless partners he never bothered to remember the names of. An endless string of taverns and pubs, looking in on poker games and pickpocketing from the inebriated winners. A sea of miscellaneous people, some thrown away and left behind while some reciprocated, all the while wondering what the point of it all was. Wondering what was the point of staying with a certain group, with certain people who had nothing to offer him._

_He saw himself learning how to fight and actually being good at it, despite his disadvantage. He remembered how empowering it felt to finally get control over his own body, to have a fighting chance in life. He might not have been able to change the nature of his condition, but he grasped the means of protecting himself and overcoming his weaknesses. He saw flashes of meeting Barley and becoming his apprentice, with the feelings of pride and purpose associated with that. Meeting Dag, feelings of anger, hate and pain. Meeting Tobias and the life debt he owed him. The old man coming to him in the late hours of the night after months of no contact, Logan's hands full of playing cards as a new job was dropped into his lap. Meeting Elsa._

_Elsa._

_Everything came to a halt when the timeline reached present date, and thoughts of the surprisingly tenacious blonde maiden flooded his mind. Logan felt a searing pain in his temple that nearly rendered him senseless. His arms remained at his sides as the world around him began to take a new, more solid form, and the next thing he knew he was on his back. _

_He laid motionless on the forest floor staring up at a starry sky. Snow bracketed his frame and he could hear it crunch beneath him. At the new found peace, his hazel eyes slid shut and he inhaled crisp air, his sinuses stimulated by the cold._

_"There's only us, there's only this."_

_He opened his eyes. _

_A distant voice singing to an unheard tune wafted in and curled around him, pulling him from his daze._

_"Forget regret, or life is your's to miss."_

_He blinked lazily as he focused his hearing on the silent world around him, attempting to catch more words on the breeze that rattled the bare branches of the trees._

_"No other road, no other way. No day but today."_

_With a labored heave that shouldn't have taken as much effort as it did, Logan pulled himself into a sitting position. His vision swam for a moment before straightening and he could feel the threat of nausea boiling in the pit of his stomach. He forced the discomfort away, focusing on the soft echoes._

_"There's only us, only tonight. We must let go, to know what's right."_

_Shaking the snowflakes from his hair, the ex-bandit climbed to his feet. Again, his vision blurred, fraying along the edges like an old shirt. He stumbled forward a step, falling on to one knee, but managed to remain upright otherwise._

_"No other path, No other way. No day but today."_

_He made his way through the unmarked forest at a snail's pace with his feet crunching in the snow. His legs felt stiff and he couldn't move any faster than a clumsy shuffle, though the snow didn't even reach mid-calf on him. _

_The voice was familiar, but he had trouble placing it. No surprise. He doubted his ability to remember his own last name at this point. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of nonsense. Fuzzy with static._

_"I can't control my destiny. I trust my soul, my only goal is just to be."_

_The owner of the voice may have been a mystery, but their talent wasn't. They executed each note flawlessly, dragging them out for an impossible amount of time, punctuating each word clearly where others would have foregone enunciation in favor of not losing rhythm. They were in perfect time, as far as he could tell. Logan himself wasn't particularly gifted or well rehearsed in the practice, but he didn't need to be Ludwig van Beethoven to appreciate it._

_The temperature dropped, clouding his breath, but Logan couldn't feel the cold. He was boiling hot by the time he reached the clearing where the singing originated from. _

_The forest gave way to a small clearing where the moon overhead shined down on a frozen lake. The white landscape was blinding, with no tree tops to block the light and filter its touch on earth. The scene was iridescent. The virgin snow folded like dunes of sugar around the lake and the staggered falls that bled into it. A cold breeze swept through the clearing, rustling the willow trees flanking the lake. Their leaves clicked against one another like crystal teardrops in the dead of winter. Logan almost had to cover his eyes from the sheer purity of it all. It gave off a glow that made his head hurt. It was serene. It was beautiful. It was unbelievable that his subconscious was able to produce anything remotely like it._

_Though breathtaking, his eyes only took in so much of it before movement atop the lake drew his attention away. _

_A figure in blue moved across the ice in a slow, rhythmic dance, twirling like a ballerina with wide, graceful sweeps of her arms and legs in time with the lyrics still resonating throughout the area. From where he stood on top of a jutting hill that overlooked the clearing, Logan was able to identify the moonlight performer as Elsa. She stood tall and proud in a shimmering gown with a long train that shined like frost, her pale hair swept up into a twisted updo, bound so tightly that only the soft bangs resting against her forehead escaped its bindings._

_"There's only now, there's only here."_

_She moved about the frozen lake without even a nod of acknowledgement for her audience. It was like he wasn't there, and maybe he wasn't. He didn't feel very put together. He felt like a shade. A dull, near translucent shade of himself, the person he was before entering that damned apple orchard that changed everything. The threat of Dag had always been a constant. Something dark that loomed over his and Elsa's heads like a storm cloud. But even with the few confrontations with his men, the threat had just been a distant possibility. A cautionary tale, like Krampus or trolls hiding underneath bridges. It all didn't seem wholly tangible until the ambush._

_"Give in to love or live in fear."_

_But nothing seemed real now, probably because it wasn't, and he _knew_ that, but he couldn't stop himself from becoming wrapped up in the illusion all the same. He watched Elsa twirl across the surface of the ice, unhindered by her less than practical footwear and the impossible purchase it would have against the ice._

_His mind on autopilot, Logan made his way into the clearing, managing his footing carefully against the snow as he moved down the slope. He stopped at the edge of the lake when he finally hit the bottom, his boots planted inches from the ice. He looked down at it, catching his reflection as clear as if he was looking into an actual mirror. His cheeks looked flushed and his dark hair stuck to his forehead with perspiration. His breathing had kicked up since his trek through the forest and he felt more winded than he should have been._

_"There's only us, there's only this."_

_The train of Elsa's gown flared up in the air as she swept past him, displaying the patterned snowflake design on the wispy material. It looked so dainty, he thought, watching it get caught up in another breeze, half expecting it to break apart and dissolve into thin air. So much of Elsa was shown from the scant covering of the dress, and if Logan himself hadn't been completely void of all humility, he would have thought it indecent. No doubt other people would. _

_But the two were alone, here in the clearing. A fact he tried not to focus too hard on as the blonde's confident stride exposed more leg than he was prepared to see because of the high slit of her gown._

_He felt oddly guilty, then. As if he had intruded on something private. It didn't seem right for him to see Elsa this way. Not after he constructed those walls around himself when he categorized her and her problems as strictly business in his head after they had struck their little deal. But there was no escaping his own mind, especially when it was laid out on full display like this. He could ignore his thoughts in his waking hours, wave away and refuse to acknowledge what ever it was that seemed to be growing between him and the hopeless blonde (if there even was something, and not just his twisted imagination, taunting him with things he can't have), but he couldn't play ignorant in the dreamscape, not on Freud's turf._

_There was something liberated about her, vibrant and unrestrained. She moved surefooted and sung passionately into the night. There was cause for celebration. She was finally taking back the control that Dag had taken away from her when he stole her from her home. Taking it for herself and not just soaking it up secondhand off of Logan because he acted as a buffer between her and Dag. He had essentially agreed to be her guard dog. Because that was what he was, wasn't he? A dog. A mutt. _

_The end of his usefulness was in sight. How much more did Elsa actually need from him at this point? They found themselves matched in protection. It was now a joint effort bred solely from the fact that they were together in the first place. Logan's navigation skills were probably the only thing he had going for him. If it wasn't for that, Elsa could probably make the rest of the journey by herself if she really needed to._

_But on the other hand, perhaps his usefulness wasn't running dry quite yet. It would really depend on who Dag wanted more..._

_"No other path, No other way. No day but today."_

_She held on to the last note and sung it high, her voice climbing heights Logan didn't know were possible for such a small woman. A slight, svelte frame hiding a powerful set of lungs. In hindsight maybe he should have expected it. She had done such an admirable job blowing his other expectations of her out of the water. He still couldn't tell if that was because she was more unpredictable than outward appearance would suggest, or if he had been too hypercritical._

_She turned towards him then, regarding him with a smile and bright eyes like she had known he was there the whole time, watching her dance and listening to her song. _

_She beckoned him forward with an outstretched hand, motioning for him to join her on the lake. The sheer blue fabric of her dress sleeve glistened in the moonlight, almost hurting his eyes with its intensity. It was like that all over, the dress itself a beacon of light with its tiny crystallized bits woven into the fabric._

_He hesitated on the edge of the lake. He glanced between Elsa and the ice with an uncertain expression, not feeling much in the mood for slipping and falling on his ass, much less in front of a witness. _

_But the powers that be...she had that kind of face, that kind of smile that would make a man do many a stupid thing for just a sliver of her attention._

_"No day but today."_

_As her song ended, Logan approached Elsa on the frozen lake, his footing more stable than expected. _

_When he drew close enough, he frowned at the braided swirl her hair was twisted into. It wasn't what he was used to and his hand raised towards her face in response. She didn't move an inch as he took out the pin holding the updo together. She didn't object, either. She only gave him an easy smile as the braid fell free. Loose strands of platinum blonde hair fell in front of her face and she swept them back into the more familiar style he was accustomed to, all without breaking eye contact. Her hair was so pale in the moonlight, it almost glowed white._

_"Took you long enough," she finally spoke. Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement. "I was starting to think you had gone and died on me. It would have been a pain to bury you by myself."_

_A morbid remark. Too morbid for the real Elsa, but Logan was on the verge of falling apart so he hardly noticed. He had pins and needles pricking his skin, and a slow throbbing in his arm had started up sometime between now and him entering the clearing. _

_He swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat as he looked down at her. His arm that wasn't hurting wrapped around her slender waist of its own accord, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back, fitting perfectly against the delicious dip of her spine. He pulled her flush against him. Her hands roamed slowly up his chest in retaliation. The skin she touched through his shirt erupted with goosebumps. Her hands were freezing, but the way her fingers splayed against the thin material of his ruined shirt made him want to melt._

_He had already thought about her in a less than innocent way before this point. He hadn't thought about actually pursing it, though. He wouldn't risk a perfectly functional work relationship because he couldn't keep his thoughts strictly platonic. He wouldn't burden a woman who was just trying to get home to save her friend with the mess that was his mind. Elsa didn't need that on her shoulders, atop of everything else. But he has thought about it. He couldn't deny that it wasn't there, lurking somewhere in the back of his head. An attraction that flared anew every time she blinked those big blues, looking up at him from underneath her eyelashes. It couldn't be allowed. He refused to encourage the cancerous thought of pinning her against a tree and-_

_He felt sick. A wave of smoldering heat washed over him and left his chest almost heaving with exhaustion. Elsa's easy smile dropped and he watched her retreat back into herself, once again resembling the shaking leaf that had approached him in Mylinda's tavern. Her hands came up to grip her arms in a self hug as a deep shiver visibly ran through her body._

_"I'm cold," she said in a small voice, a puff of clouded air slipping from her lips._

_"What?"_

_Her eyes flickered back up at him. "You're cold."_

_His body shivered in response to her words and he finally realized for the first time that he was cold. Freezing._

_The ice beneath their feet cracked with a deafening sound. Long, jagged fissures wove together and stretched wide as they spread out like a spider's web, marring the flawless surface of the lake. The Demon's Fang insignia with the deadly black spider and blood red backdrop flashed inside his head. It lingered for a second, but it left behind a painful throbbing deep inside his skull. _

_A high-pitched ringing kicked up and radiated his eardrums, forcing him to his knees as he brought up his hands to cover his ears. Elsa was gone, melting away into a puddle like a snowflake the moment it touches human skin. __Logan collapsed on to the frozen lake. _

_Battling against the pain in his head, he curled into a ball to protect himself against the assault. Violent shivers racked his body, causing him to spasm against the cracked ice. The ringing in his ears intensified until it drove the ex-bandit half insane and the world around him exploded into an all consuming white light. Followed swiftly by total darkness._

~O~

In the waking world, Logan twitched and shuddered atop the bed, limbs tangled up in the wrinkled sheets with his bloodied shirt stripped off and abandoned on the floor. His breathing was shallow and his heart pounded fast inside his rib cage. His cheeks had a bright pink hue to them while strands of dark hair clung to his damp forehead, his body radiating heat. His brow was knitted tight together and a pained expression decorated his face, brought on by the fever that had snuck up on him in his sleep.

A hand reached out and touched the skin of his forehead. It brushed back his bangs and gauged his temperature. Logan flinched at the touch, his skin uncomfortably sensitive, but didn't wake from his fitful slumber. The owner of the hand let out a soft huff as she retracted and regarded the gauze wrapped around his upper bicep.

Nikki gave Logan's face a glance, making sure he was still deeply under before reaching out and unbinding the gauze. It fell away to reveal the black sutures holding the cut closed. The bleeding had finally stopped because of the stitches and some of the bruising had gone down, but the skin surrounding it was now an angry red, and despite the heat coming off him in waves, Logan was shivering. Taking note of this, the older woman gently prodded the hot skin around the cut with her fingertips.

Elsa paced back and forth behind her, chafing the bottom of her bare feet against the rug. She had an arm wrapped around her middle while she gnawed on the thumbnail of the other in worry.

"That isn't normal, is it?" she asked after releasing her stunted thumbnail, watching the way Nikki's expression hardened the longer she examined Logan's wound.

"No, it's not," the older woman replied. "How long has he had the fever?"

"I don't know. Maybe an hour or two? I drifted off not long after he did and when I woke up he was already like this."

Nikki pursed her lips, considering this as she carefully wrapped the gauze back around Logan's arm.

"It shouldn't be red like that, should it?"

"No, it shouldn't."

Elsa knew something was wrong, but it was difficult to tell just how wrong by Nikki's reactions. Despite her none-too-promising responses, the woman didn't seem particularly concerned about Logan and the poor condition Elsa found him in. The queen wasn't sure if Nikki was acting calm for Elsa's sake, or if this was going to be another instance where the odd couple would react inappropriately to a grim situation. If the former, it wasn't working. Elsa was smart enough to come to her own conclusions.

She wasn't a medical professional, though. So when she failed to wake Logan up by shaking him and calling his name, she sought out the couple's help, not qualified enough to do much else.

She felt bad about disrupting their morning together, but neither seemed put-off by the interruption. They were just as happy and willing to help as they were last night and Elsa had to give their drinking mugs a furtive glance, wondering if they added a little something extra to them, before leading the two back upstairs. Sidney had left some time ago to check the state of the roads, the snowfall having stopped just after dawn, but lingered in the doorway of the guest room just long enough to point out the obviousness of how bad Logan looked.

"You said he had a fever. Is he sick? Did being out in the cold do this?"

Or more specifically, did _she_ do this?

There was no definite way to tell if the snow outside was a result from all the stress Elsa had been under, or if winter had finally settled in like Logan had predicted it would. Both seemed plausible enough, but the queen was hoping it was the latter. Logan hadn't really disclosed all that much about his medical condition and it made her wonder if a weakened immune system was a possible symptom. It wouldn't do much for her self confidence if Elsa, albeit inadvertently, had been the one to make him sick. That would be her kind of luck though, wouldn't it? She actually manages to save someone with her powers for once but only to turn around and make them sick. Typical.

Nikki shook her head, placing the back of her hand against Logan's forehead again. "Oh no, this fever wasn't caused by anything you can catch in the snow, dear. His wound is infected, the skin around it is inflamed. Infections can give you a real nasty fever if you're not careful."

"What do we do?"

Nikki stood up from where she sat perched on the edge of the bed, smoothing out the wrinkled front of her dress and placing her hands on her hips. She looked back down at Logan with a pondering grimace.

"We'll definitely need the town doctor to take a look at it. He'll need antibiotics to help battle the infection. But be it easier said than done, of course. It'll really depend on the state of the roads. If they're clear enough to travel, then we'll have Sidney fetch the doctor from town. He should be able to patch your boy up and make him right as rain. Not sure if he'll be able to travel immediately afterwards, though. He'll probably be stuck on bed rest. If we manage to break his fever, that is."

Elsa should have been disappointed by the news. She should have been disappointed that their impromptu waterfall shortcut might be wasted now that the ex-bandit was rendered indisposed by his own body. It was yet another pitfall in their already difficult journey, detouring them once more just when it seemed like they might finally come out on top. She wasn't too big to feel bitter towards the unfairness of it all, but honestly, she found herself more concerned for Logan's health. He did not look any better than he did last night, worse even, and the tight expression on his face continued to grow more severe, making it obvious that he was in pain.

His breathing was labored and she could almost see his pulse pounding away beneath the pale skin of his neck. Occasionally he would move in a full body flinch as his fingers twisted into the sheets below him. He even let out a soft whimper whenever his afflicted arm was jostled, though whether in pain or distress Elsa couldn't tell.

Either way, it was disturbing to see him in such a state. There was nothing left of that cool, cocky man who the queen had come to know and like. A sense of familiarity had bloomed between them, establishing a strong enough connection to where she could find comfort from his mere presence. It was a connection that she had solemnly felt with few people in her life, all of which she could count on one hand.

She hoped the feeling was at least a little bit mutual, because Logan looked practically starved for comfort and she had no idea how to give it otherwise. He was so closed off, more so than ever. He had this frustrating way of being beyond her touch, even as he lay open and vulnerable. It had always been like that. When he relayed the most painful parts of his past to her. When he was pinned to the ground underneath Dag's boots with an axe above his head. And now. Especially now. Elsa stood barely three feet from the bed, but he felt hundreds of miles away from her, suffering somewhere she couldn't follow, completely alone.

She was only half listening when Nikki excused herself and stepped out of the room with a promise to return. The queen grabbed a chair and moved it so she could sit next to the bed. It creaked in protest underneath her weight and the wood pushed against the saddle sores on her bottom, but she ignored them as she sat as close to the bed as she could.

Without really thinking about it, she reached out and grabbed the hand of Logan's uninjured arm. His fingers were limp in hers, but still warm with the promise of life. The skin of his palm felt rough and calloused against hers, evidence of the stark difference between their lives before that first crossing of their paths. His half-cut gloves laid abandoned on the floor along with his shirt and suspenders.

In a moment of desperation to incite a response from the man, the queen allowed a thin sheen of ice to crawl out from beneath her fingers and lightly coat Logan's hand in glowing frost. She foolishly let herself feel a spark of hope in her chest when she felt his fingers give a slight twitch, so subtle she nearly missed it. It gave way to disappointment when the frost melted and she received no further movement from him other than the rise and fall of his chest. The melted ice gathered between the crevices formed by their intertwined hands before overflowing and causing rivulets to run down both their arms and drip on to the sheets.

Elsa let out a forlorn sigh as she lowered their hands so they were resting on the bed.

She realized then that this must be Logan's equivalent of a locked bedroom door, and ironically it was her knocks that went unheard this time.

"I'm so sorry about this," she heard herself apologize when Nikki stepped back into the room, cradling a fresh bowl of water and a hand cloth in her arms. The water in the bowl swashed around in reverse time of the older woman's steps, a few stray drops escaping over the ceramic rim and dampening the sleeve of her pale blue dress. "It looks like we forced an extended stay on you."

Nikki gave Elsa a smile as she slipped past her, avoiding the lump in the rug that Elsa had nearly tripped over fives times since this morning. She placed the bowl on the bedside table and waved off her apology with a flick of the hand towel.

"Oh it's no trouble, really. This is more excitement than Sidney and I have seen in a while, so we are having quite a day. I enjoy the peace and quiet the forest brings, but things can get a little mundane all the way out here without any neighbors to drink tea and talk gossip with. You'll have to excuse us if we live vicariously through you."

"Please, vicarious away," Elsa insisted, propping her head up on the palm of her empty hand. "At least somebody will get a kick out of it. My life right now is so tragically hilarious, Shakespeare would have a field day."

The couple would be more than welcome to trade places with her and Logan if it meant this nightmare could be over. If she didn't have her family and her kingdom to worry about, the queen probably would have thrown in the towel a long time ago. She would have called it quits and abandoned this horrible journey. She would have asked Logan to take her to the most remote place he could think of and she would stake her claim there, building herself a home where she would live out the rest of her days in hiding.

Or maybe she would disappear completely as Elsa of Arendelle, wipe her hands clean of that woman and start afresh somewhere safe from bandits. She would have Logan help her make a new identity, and one for himself while they were at it, and then they could go far away and leave everything behind. Be whoever they wanted to be.

Or better yet, if she didn't have Anna to worry about, Elsa could just freeze Dag and his men. Freeze them into a hulking iceberg prison and toss it into her kingdom's fjord and watch it sink into darkness. No hiding or false identities required. Her and Logan could storm the bandits' camp together. Between the both of them, they wouldn't have any problem taking down Dag. They would strip him of his precious control, and show him just how weak and insignificant he really was. Wishful thinking, yes, and pointless because she _did_ have Anna to worry about. Not to mention how entirely out of character it would be for her. But it felt good to fantasize about it. Dag certainly had a way of bringing that out in her.

She chose not to acknowledge that Logan was included in all those little fantasies - played a role that had him by her side, even after everything was said and done and the job she hired him for was finished.

Instead, she watched as Nikki soaked the hand towel in the bowl of water. She held the towel up and twisted the excess water out of it before neatly folding it in half and laying it across Logan's forehead, washing away the perspiration gathered there and cooling the too-warm skin.

"There," she said softly. "This should help bring his temperature down a little. We should crack a window and let in some air. Sidney goes a little crazy with the firewood sometimes, it's like living in a sauna."

"I'll do it," Elsa announced, jumping at the chance to be useful, even if it was just opening the window.

If she had been alone with Logan, then she would have just made the room colder herself. She would have made the room freezing if it helped. Feed a fever and all that (or was it feed a cold? What were you supposed to do with the fever?). But they weren't alone and the queen once again found herself next to useless.

She stood and walked over to the only window in the room. Throwing open the latch, she pushed the window up until there was a satisfying gap between the plane and the sill. A cold breeze blew in, balancing out the almost stifling heat of the guest bedroom. Nikki shivered when the breeze swept over her, but said nothing. She only pulled her mauve shawl tighter as she looked down at Logan on the bed.

"Amazing, isn't it?" she asked with a fond smile.

Elsa reclaimed her chair on the other side of the bed, glancing between Nikki and Logan. "What is?"

"How much trouble they would be in if they didn't have us. Sometimes I think they act helpless on purpose just to get our attention." She gave a sigh. "But we do love them so."

Realizing who the older woman meant by "they", Elsa pressed her lips together in a tight line.

"Listen, about that. I probably should have said something sooner, but Logan and I aren't actually a couple."

Nikki frowned. "Really?"

Both women looked down at Elsa and Logan's intertwined hands and the queen had to fight back a blush. Hand holding probably wasn't doing anything to help with the mixed signals. Though, she had to wonder what exactly made the older woman think her and Logan were a couple in the first place. She was concerned for Logan's well being for sure, but she wasn't exactly doting on him like any loving girlfriend/wife would.

The corner of her mouth quirked up in a sheepish half smile. She released Logan's hand and placed hers back in her lap, missing the way his fingers tightened around hers for just a second before the contact was severed.

"No, we're not. We're not really anything. Or least, I don't think we are. I would like to think that we're friends, but it's all kind of complicated and Logan's not the easiest person to get along with. It's almost impossible to get straight answers from him when he's not in the mood to give them. See, recently, I did some...unexpected traveling, and I hired Logan to escort me back home, to Arendelle. We didn't get along at first. It wasn't really an ideal situation, for either us, and we were kind of forced to work together for a lack of a better option. If we weren't fighting then we were completely ignoring each other."

Nikki listened as the blonde spoke, nodding her head as if she understood exactly what Elsa was talking about. The queen seriously doubted that, but it was nice to have another woman to talk to after a month of wading through a minefield of testosterone. Nikki's face was open and honest, accepting and nonjudgmental towards the unconventional circumstances surrounding Elsa and Logan's involvement with each other.

"Well that comes as a surprise to me. You certainly argue like one," Nikki laughed. She gave the younger woman a playful wink. "You two aren't exactly quiet whisperers."

This time Elsa definitely felt a blush blossom on her cheeks. She thought back on all the rude remarks Logan made about the couple, even as they offered them sanctuary for the night. She would need to talk to the ex-bandit later and make him apologize for his behavior once he was capable.

"I'm so sorry about that. He really didn't mean anything by what he said, honest. Logan isn't usually so..."

Well no, that wasn't entirely true. Any word she slotted in there would probably be a boldface lie in some shape or form.

"It's alright, dear." Nikki waved off the apology. "My son was a bit of a hothead when he was that age, too. They all are, really. Give him another couple years and I'm sure he'll level out."

Elsa pulled a dubious face, looking down at Logan and trying to imagine him "leveling out" into someone not so...him. It was like imagining Anna in the same context. It just wasn't something they were likely to grow out of. They were deep-seeded quirks in their personalities.

And it wasn't like Logan was immature or completely abhorrent. He was just a man who was acutely in-tune with what he did and did not like, and possessed no qualms for expressing himself. There wasn't anything wrong with that.

He just needed to be less of an ass to people who warranted it, and not just the ones he scarcely deemed worthy.

"I'll believe that when I see it," she mumbled.

Changing the subject, Nikki leaned in, giving the queen a look that was difficult to read. "I hope I'm not overstepping any boundaries, but how did he get this wound?"

"From an arrow," Elsa answered automatically. "A hunting accident. We stopped by a river to refill our water supply and rest, and we must have stumbled into someone's game."

Though she knew she shouldn't be, Elsa was a little proud of herself for this lie. It was broad enough for Nikki to accept easily without Elsa having to know anything about the surrounding area, and vague enough to leave breathing room should she get caught in a lie, and also simple enough for Logan to catch on to their cover story should the question be repeated to him. It was short and simple and she believed Logan would have been proud of her for coming up with it.

"How unfortunate," Nikki tsked, putting her hands on her hips in that classic, displeased "mom" manner. "I bet it was those McManus boys, from up the road. I've told them a hundred times to be more careful out in the woods, especially when out on a hunt. They're a rowdy pair of brothers, hailing straight from Ireland, if that's not too hard to believe. Ale and arrows are never a good mix. Stupid boys, I'm going to give them a talking to next time I see them."

Elsa grimaced, feeling a smidgen of guilt for the innocent hunters that would surely receive a scolding from the older woman. She tried not to imagine a pair of strangers' faces twisted up in confusion because they had no idea what she was talking about, and the moment the ball dropped and Nikki realized Elsa had lied to her. It was a small consolation that her and Logan would, hopefully, be long gone by then.

Heavy footsteps down the hall drew Elsa's attention towards the door of the guest room. It opened to reveal Sidney, donning a heavy winter coat with sheep's wool lining and a matching hat. He shook off the snow that peppered his clothing and gave the two women a smile, his cheeks and nose frostnipped by the cold.

"What's the verdict, Hon?" Nikki asked.

"Bad news, I'm afraid," he reported, despite his misleading smile. "It's knee deep out there and the roads are buried."

Nikki inhaled through her teeth. "That is bad news. Our guest here isn't doing so well and we could really use a doctor's hand. Doctor Gunsen won't make house calls if the roads are in poor condition. Not with those wicked old joints of his."

"Do we really need a doctor?" Elsa asked. "We know what's wrong with him already. You said he needed antibiotics to clear up his infection, right? Do you have any antibiotics here that we can use?"

"Afraid not, dear. If we did, I would've brought them out as soon as his fever started up. It would be cruel of me to leave the poor thing to suffer like that. My silly Sidney used the last of what we had when he cut his hand on a nail last week."

"Hey now, that makes me sound stingy. If I had known it would be needed, I would've gone easier on it."

"You know I didn't mean it like that, you old coot. I'm just telling her what's what. Nobody's accusing you of anything, least of all me. Although, I did tell you to be more careful when out in that shed of yours. You ought to pull those rusty nails out of the rafters before you really hurt yourself."

"Beautiful, smart and wise. How did I get so lucky?"

"It's a complete mystery to me as well, my love."

"Maybe it was my charm and good looks?"

Nikki laughed. "Well, aren't we feeling modest today! Do you really find me that vain? Of course not. You're a fine good catch, husband of mine. We are both lucky to have found each other. True love is so rare, don't you agree?"

"With you? Always," Sidney smiled, looking at his wife as if she was the only woman in the world. "I would be a fool not to."

Sidney wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders and squeezed her tight, giving her a swift peck on the temple. Nikki patted his chest fondly and gave him a loving smile. They seemed oblivious to the other occupants in the room, once again lost in their little bubble of marital bliss and love. Before the couple could go off on another tangent of romantic nothings, Elsa cut in.

"Is there anywhere we could get some? Antibiotics, I mean. Where's the closest market?"

"In town," Sidney replied, letting his arm fall around Nikki's waist.

"I don't think it would be a good idea to wait for the roads to clear. If you give me directions, could I make the trip myself?"

"Antibiotics aren't sold in market, but the local apothecary works just as well. It's run out of Doctor Gunsen's office, conveniently enough. If you head up behind the house and walk as the crow flies, there's a hiking path about an hour away that'll take you into town. It's a lengthy walk, mind, but doable. The snow stopped early this morning and judging by the sky, I don't suspect it'll start up again until after nightfall. The town is small, but the apothecary should have everything you need. It's your best bet."

"If you insist on going yourself, it'll have to be soon," Nikki spoke up. "Much longer of this and your friend's wound will turn septic. If he gets a blood infection, things will go from bad to worse real fast and I doubt even a doctor could save him."

Elsa looked down at Logan still laying unconscious on the bed and let out a sigh. "Well, it looks like I don't have much of a choice then. It shouldn't be too hard. Just a straightforward hike through the forest, right?"

"Right doodidly dandy," Sidney nodded.

Right.

The queen stood up from her chair and walked over to where her boots were laying on the floor. She lowered herself to the ground and brushed her skirts aside, slipping on her boots. She felt the tender sores on the bottom of her feet cry out in protest, but she ignored them as she tied the laces. There was little doubt that she would have a nice collection of blisters by the time this was all over. A hike through the forest sounded like the least fun thing to do right now, but it was certainly better than sitting around and watching Logan get worse. If the trek was as simple as Sidney made it out to be (and she had a feeling it probably wasn't), she shouldn't have any problem getting the medicine they needed.

"I suppose I should go with you," Sidney offered. "Wouldn't be right to let you wander the forest alone."

Elsa considered it for a moment before shaking her head.

"No, you should stay here with your wife. I'm fine on my own, really. I can move a lot faster if it's just me and I want to get back before it gets dark. Logan might not be in the best of moods if he wakes up and I'm not here, so you should stay here and help Nikki calm him down if he does."

She honestly didn't know if she would be better on her own. It was a bluff that Sidney probably wouldn't call her on. He seemed like the type to take people at face value, unwisely so. He was a good man, though, with a lovely wife who meant the world to him, which was why Elsa needed to do this on her own. She couldn't chance running into any of Dag's bandits with Sidney accompanying her. Logan said the waterfall put them days ahead of Dag and the majority of his gang, but that didn't mean that there weren't any stray members lurking in the area, patrols that the bandit leader sent out to scout ahead and stage traps like he was known to do.

She wasn't bluffing about Logan, with what she said about him waking up while she was out fetching his antibiotics. She couldn't decide which was worse; her and Sidney encountering Dag's bandits and falling under threat that would surely get Sidney and Nikki (and Logan by extension) killed. Or Logan waking up to find Elsa gone and himself under the care of the benevolent couple he seemed to hate for being entirely too pleasant. Neither seemed apt, but if she had to pick, she'd have to go with the latter. At least then it could be avoided if she was quick enough.

And besides, if the opportunity arose, her powers could help with the journey. It had snowed last night so she no longer had to worry about leaving behind a trail that Dag and his men could track her with, so long as she didn't use them conspicuously.

Yes, this could work. The more the queen thought it over, the more confident she became in her ability to help Logan.

She turned towards the couple with new conviction.

"I'm going to need a new cloak."

* * *

**AN: Looks like Elsa's going solo for a little while. Wonder what'll happen. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I hope the song was okay. I don't usually like featuring songs because music doesn't always transfer very well into writing, but I wanted to feature at least one since Frozen is a musical. **

**Another dream sequence. Dream sequences are a good way to focus on characters. They expose thoughts and feelings about ourselves that we sometimes wouldn't consciously acknowledge. Logan's dream sequence shows his changing perception of Elsa. I know some of you have been asking for the romance to start and I'm working on that, but for now I hope the in-dream sweetness is enough to curb your enthusiasm! ****And for those you who want to get on my case about Elsa being in her ice dress in Logan's dream and how he's never seen that dress, my eloquent rebuttal will be: Shut up. They do it in animated movies all the time.**

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	16. Mounting Devotion

**AN: Hey, guys! Last chapter didn't get very many reviews and I'm a little concerned. Just as a reminder, this story is still review driven, which means I update depending on the reviews. But thanks to those of you who did review last chapter. I really appreciate it!**

**Once again, there is a small medical element. I have no medical training and do not claim to know anything about herbal plants and medicine. I simply looked up most common antibacterials and antibiotics used in the 1800s. If you are someone who knows about that stuff and have found what I put down to be inaccurate, let me know and I'll revise accordingly. **

**Warning: Period typical sexism.**

_**RECENTLY RE-EDITED (12/3/16)**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or any of its characters.**

* * *

No words could describe how ridiculous Elsa felt.

The forest on a sunny afternoon was truly a beautiful sight, despite the bareness of the trees and the patches of dead grass that could be seen poking through the snow.

However, Elsa was all but desensitized by the beauty of nature when it came to winter at this point in her life, especially in this particular moment. She could still appreciate it, mind, but she rarely stared slack jawed with vehemence of it, only when it came to her powers, and even then that was more towards her ability rather than the product. So the drawbacks of winter irked her more than anybody else. At least anybody else could take a moment from their struggles to acknowledge the bittersweet beauty of the season.

A lifetime of controlling snow and ice allowed the queen to have an excellent center of balance when walking across slippery surfaces. She could maintain perfect stability where others would be scrambling for purchase. It was one of the few benefits of her powers that never came with a slew of unwanted consequences should she do something wrong.

But her powers did nothing for her when walking through snow. She held no advantage in this department and waded through the dense fluff one foot at a time like any other ordinary Joe. And naturally, the higher snowfall, the slower she went and the less graceful she was while doing it.

She had been following Sidney's instructions into town, finding the journey doable as the man said. At least until she climbed down a steep hill and hit the bottom where she sunk down into the snow almost up to her butt. Now, she waded through the snow like a mentally challenged penguin, practically crawling as she yanked her boots free when they sank too deep in the snow. She thanked the heavens that she was impervious to the cold, otherwise this trip would have been impossible to make on foot. She was given a horse that took her about halfway, but she had to dismount and leave it tied to a tree when she came across a large ravine that cut directly through her path, which had gone unmentioned by Sidney (figures), and she was forced to walk the rest of the trip.

The ravine had been unsettling, but there had been no way around it. Elsa was not looking forward to climbing into it again when she eventually made her way back. It was barren for the most part, angled into a wide circle with a small stream flowing off to the side and a couple boulders placed throughout. The only thing notable about it was a cave dug into the base of it, adjacent to Elsa's path.

She eyed it with a wary look as she passed it, making sure to give it a wide berth and maintaining several yards of space. It was too dark to see inside it, but it gave off a foreboding aura that deflected any sane individual from poking their head inside to see who was home. She could hear the wind echoing around inside it, even from where she stood, and it made a shiver run down her spine.

Quickening her pace, she reached the opposite end of the ravine where she craned her head back, assessing the wall in front of her with a frown.

Climbing down into the ravine from her side had been easy enough. The rock wall had been staggered enough for her to hop down one at a time like a stepping stone staircase until she reached the bottom. But on the opposite end, the wall was steeper and there were no such rocks placed in a manageable climbing order for her convenience. The queen didn't entertain the idea of creating a staircase up against the ravine wall, figuring that a random staircase made of ice in the middle of obscure wilderness would fall under that "using her powers conspicuously" category she wanted to avoid. And she certainly couldn't climb the thing herself, lacking both the footwear and the know-how to scale up a rock wall at a straight one-eighty degree angle. It wasn't tall enough to be impossible, but still enough to be a hassle.

It was times like these that made her wish that she asked Kristoff for climbing lessons.

Instead, she settled on bringing down the closest tree atop the wall. She took several steps back and assessed the treeline with a hand cupped against her brow to block out the sun. Her face curled up against the light, seeking out an ideal candidate before locking eyes on one that looked almost eaten through with tree rot and ready to come down on its own.

Taking aim, she threw out her left hand in the direction of the tree, forcing a bolt of ice to rocket from her fingertips like a bullet from a pistol. It hit the base of the trunk, near the roots where the rot was the worse, glowing ice now clinging heavily to it. The tree vibrated with force and the snow on the branches shook free and fell to the ground. Elsa shot off another bolt, hitting it the same spot and waiting as a thick layer of frost spread over the rest. The tree came down after, the trunk finally giving way with a series of cracks and timbering down into the ravine, falling at a slant that would allow the queen to climb up.

When the treetop hit the bottom of the ravine, it made a sound that echoed loudly through the area, scaring off a flock of birds nesting in another tree. She could hear the branches snapping beneath the force and she didn't waste any time in climbing up. It was difficult, especially with the poor grip of her boots, but she hung on tight as she straddled the trunk and shimmied her way up it. It was done without an ounce of grace or dignity, but she was able to pull herself up and out of the ravine, huffing and puffing as she brushed the dirt and bark off her clothes, feeling just a tad bit proud of herself.

She had been wrong in assuming that the ravine would be the hardest part of her trip. The snowfall had been thick, but Elsa felt more qualified to deal with it than most. At the very least, the clothing that Nikki had lent her would help the queen better blend in, both in the forest and in town once she finally reached it.

She was given an old, blue winter dress of Nikki's, a pair of soft mittens, a satchel to carry the medical supplies in and a brown cloak that was two sizes too big for her. She looked more simple this way, more unremarkable and less likely to attract attention, along with the added touch of her blonde hair being done up in a plain bun much like the one Nikki preferred for herself. The hood of the cloak was drawn up over her ears, making her an undistinguished, shapeless mass of brown against the white snow.

"Come on, Elsa," she panted, reaching down to grab her knee through the skirt of her dress. "You can do this."

She pulled on her leg, yanking it free from the snow before swinging it forward and taking another step. The tell-tale crunching sounds of someone walking through snow echoed through the forest. It took a lot of effort and every ten steps felt like a mile. The forest stretched out far in front of her with no shining village at the end, highlighting her destination like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, signifying efforts well spent to help her through the struggle. She could only work off her own motivational coaching, listing off each and every person who was relying on her to spur her forward.

"Do it for Logan," she said around a grunt.

She repeated the motion with her other leg, pulling it free.

"Do it for Anna."

Another step forward, burying her boot.

"Do it for Kristoff."

Another step and another crunch.

"Do it for Olaf and Sven."

And another.

"Do it for your kingdom."

And another.

"Stupid bandit," she seethed, dislodging her boot from the snow with a little more force than necessary as she waddled ridiculously towards town. "Letting himself get injured like that. Didn't ask for him to do that for me. Didn't ask him to do any of this. This wasn't what we agreed upon. It was supposed to be the bare minimum. He wasn't supposed to go above and beyond to help me. He wasn't supposed to care. If he had just stuck to his jerk routine, we wouldn't be in this mess. He wouldn't be dying from an infection and I wouldn't be crawling through the snow to get him medicine like a Saint Bernard!"

How had things come to this, she wondered. When had their distinct roles become so blurred? Logan was the protector and Elsa was the protected. That was how they started out and that was how they should have stayed. But they didn't, and now Elsa found herself driven to keep moving forward for a purpose other than Anna, and it terrified her.

When she reached the trail Sidney spoke about, the queen flagged down a pair of sheep herders in a sleigh. They were kind enough to stop for her and she was able to hitch a ride into town. Granted, she had to ride in the back with the sheep because of the lack of room up front, but it was certainly better than walking and it would save her a lot of time. The smell and the sheep bleating in her face be damned.

The town was small and unremarkable, not unlike all the other towns and villages she and Logan had visited throughout their journey. Elsa didn't stop to take it in, not even the basic layout or the people walking around. She located the market almost immediately. From her given satchel, she pulled out the small slip of paper Sidney had given her with the street name the apothecary was on. She walked the market, making her way past townsfolk and merchants until she was three streets over from where she started, hitting pay dirt when she spotted a sign that read "Evergreen Terrance", the street written on the slip of paper. The apothecary was the fourth shop on the right, just where Sidney said it would be.

There was a man and a small hay wagon parked out in front of it. An elderly gentleman who matched the description of Dr. Gunsen given to her by Nikki; average in height with a potbelly and a bald head decorated with age spots. He was taking inventory of the crates sitting outside his shop. Elsa noticed that the hay wagon was stocked with more crates that she could only assume contained medical supplies. She eyed the wagon as she made her way around it, mindful of the horse hooked up to the front.

"Excuse me," she spoke up, coming up behind the older man as he picked up a crate off the sidewalk and stacked it atop another in the wagon. He was mumbling under his breath while rubbing his back and didn't notice Elsa's approach until she made her way into his peripheral vision.

He turned to her, adjusting the eyeglasses that slipped down the bridge of his nose. "What's that now? Who are you?"

"Hello," Elsa greeted, waving her fingers at him through her mittens in an uncertain greeting. "I was hoping you could help me, Dr. Gunsen."

He regarded her before reaching into the small pocket of his vest and pulling out a pocket watch. "I'm sure I can, but it'll have to be quick. I have somewhere I need to be right now. What can I do for you, miss?"

Elsa took a step forward, producing the slip of paper. She held it out for the doctor to take and he eyed the neat script with a clinical gaze. His brown eyes danced across the list of supplies before he glanced up over the top of his eyeglasses. He regarded her again with a frown.

"Oddly specific. Might I ask what do you need these for, miss?"

"My friend is sick with a bad fever. He got an infection from a cut on his arm and I was told that these would help make him better. Do you not have them?"

"I have them," he said, handing the slip back over to Elsa. "But I'm afraid I can't part with them."

She blinked at him. "What? Why not?"

"One of the mines collapsed last night."

"What mines?"

"New around here, eh? There's an old orchard house about a mile above the falls - or least, there _was_ an orchard house. From what the constables have told me, a fire broke out last night and burnt the whole thing to the ground before spreading to the neighboring coal mines. A lot of the workers were injured in the collapse, I must go treat them immediately and I'll need all the supplies I have. I couldn't possibly spare any without assessing what'll be needed at the mines first. I'll take a look at your friend when I return."

"And when will that be?"

Irrelevant. Regardless of the answer, Logan needed medical attention now. Anything less than that would be too late. Elsa wasn't sure how long it would take for a fever to kill someone, but she wasn't about to find out. She could go her whole life without ever knowing and that would be just fine. She chose to ignore the news of the orchard house fire entirely, knowing exactly how it started and afraid any flinch of realization might give her away.

"Tomorrow, most like."

"Tomorrow?" she echoed, shaking her head. "No, that'll be way too late. He could be dead by then!"

The doctor gave her a trying look, as if the queen was failing to see all reason and he was wondering why she either bothered coming up to him if she wasn't going to listen to anything he said.

"Miss, factory fires are nothing to laugh at. I don't mean to sound insensitive, but I'm sure those workers are worse off than your friend. For all I know, you could be exaggerating his condition. My wife does that all the time. It annoys the hell out of me."

"I wasn't laughing and I'm not exaggerating!" Elsa snapped, aghast. "He's really, really sick and he needs help! He has a medical condition, a problem with his blood. It's called the royal disease and it's very serious!"

"Royal disease? Can't say I ever heard of it," he sniffed, reaching down to pick up the last crate off the sidewalk.

"Well I'm not making it up!"

Her voice hit a shrill note. The doctor flinched and a few of the nearby townsfolk looked their way. He gave Elsa a hushing motion with his hand as he smiled disarmingly at the onlookers, putting off their curiosity until they finally moved on. He looked back at Elsa with a stern frown which she returned with a scathing glare.

"Miss, I think you're becoming hysterical. Is your husband or father around?" he looked over Elsa's shoulder, searching the area for some sort of handler who could reel the blonde woman in. "Maybe it'll be easier if I explain this to them - or, actually, never mind. I can't deal with this now, I really must be going. Tell them to come by my shop tomorrow and we'll do something then."

Elsa stood off to the side of the wagon, speechless, as the doctor dismissed her by turning his back and climbing into the front of the wagon. He snapped the reigns of his horse and the wagon surged forward, rolling down the street without so much as a parting nod of acknowledgement for the woman left behind.

She watched him go, drilling holes in the back of his bowling ball of a head with her eyes and seething. Is your husband or father around? Ha, very funny. As if that would have made a difference. His head was more dense than a rock troll's. Maybe she'll freeze all his windows shut and let the melted ice give him damp. She felt bad about the workers in the collapsed mine, because she knew that Dag was the one who caused it, but who was that doctor to say their suffering held precedence over Logan's? She could probably understand the apathy a little if he was dealing with a crisis, but the doctor didn't act like he was. For all she knew, _he_ could be the one doing the exaggerating.

Maybe Sidney should have gone with her after all.

"Now what am I going to do?" she mumbled to herself, looking at the empty apothecary in front of her.

He had left his shop unattended. Elsa eyed the front door.

'_Moron_,' a voice that sounded suspiciously like Logan's rang in the back of her head. An idea blossomed and it only took half a second for her to wish it hadn't. She let out a sigh, realizing in the span of the other half second that she had no other choice.

The queen gave a furtive glance around her, eyeing the street up and down in faux nonchalance, making note of every person occupying the shared space of Evergreen Terrance. There was only a handful of townspeople out, but they were all going through the motions of their daily routines as the shopkeepers manned their shops and passing pedestrians stuck to their own. When she was confident nobody was paying her any mind, Elsa approached the doctor's door while using her teeth to pull off the mitten of her left hand and grabbing the doorknob with the bare skin of her palm.

After one more quick look, she froze the doorknob. The tarnished brass made a high pitched whining noise as the metal was cooled. The ice spread from beneath Elsa's palm, seeping into the keyhole and freezing its inner workings.

Elsa shook the doorknob as hard as she could, pushing and pulling until she felt something give. There was an audible clank as the lock broke and the door swung open under the weight of her body leaning against it, causing the queen to stumble into the dark shop.

She shut the door behind her, shrouding her in near darkness with the exception of the front window. The overwhelming scent of herbs and medicine assaulted her senses, spurring Elsa into action. The doctor said so himself that he wouldn't be returning to his shop until much later, but she couldn't risk being caught or reported to the authorities by a passing bystander.

There was a lantern and a pack of matches on a small table near the door. Elsa struck a match and lit the lantern before shaking the match out. Holding up the lantern, she took a look around the dark shop, seeking out the apothecary station and spotting the sign for it in the back. She weaved between the aisles of miscellaneous medical products, careful not to knock any over or stumble into something. When she reached the back, she ducked down behind the counter and pushed aside a green curtain that blocked off the apothecary's supply room.

Taking out the slip of paper with Sidney's instructions again, Elsa began to pick through the many bins and containers of syringes and herbal remedies and - was that a jar of leeches? Yelck.

There was an open medical textbook on the island in the center of the room with several bottles of liquid and dirt-covered roots. Elsa glanced over the pages, her eyes scanning the words scrawled across them before disregarding them as complete gibberish with no hope of deciphering the talk of chemical compounds and Latin terminology that was lost on her. She searched diligently for what she came for, sending a silent thanks to the jerk doctor she was currently robbing for labeling all his stock.

"Willow bark," she whispered under her breath. "Where's the willow bark. Willow bark and meadowsweet for reducing fevers, and resorcinol and camphor laurel for the infection."

She smiled with pride each time she found something she was looking for. She found a whole pouch of willow bark chippings and a bundle of meadowsweet, stuffing the herbs into the satchel hanging at her side as she sought out the camphor oil. When she found the last item on the list, and restocked up on sutures and gauze just in case, the queen ducked back out from the apothecary station and made her way out of the shop, her satchel now heavy with the promise of a job well done.

She made sure to look around the street again as she casually exited the shop and closed the door behind her. Deciding not to loiter any longer than she already had, the queen took off back the way she came.

~O~

Logan woke with a start.

He shot up in bed with his chest heaving and the remnants of another nightmare still lingering behind the spots in his vision.

His skin was overheated, almost searing to the touch as it radiated the excess heat that his body was desperately trying to shed. He recognized the familiar signs without having to put any thought into it, realizing what crept up on him while he slept.

He lowered himself back against the mattress, feeling exhausted despite having just woken up. He could tell the feel of a fever like a touch of an old lover, overwhelming and far too intimate. It had been quite a while since the last time he had gotten an infection from a cut. He had the treatment of cuts and gashes down to a science by now and he was always good about patching himself up.

He added his predicament to the already long list of reasons to hate Dag with an unholy passion. He only took brief satisfaction in knowing that if he died because of this fever, then Dag would have only had an indirect role in his death rather than a direct one like he would have wanted. Morbid, yes, but true - and judging by how horrible he felt, very much plausible. The only reason why his fever wasn't already climbing dangerous heights was because it was difficult to sustain a fever when there was too little blood in the body. If he hadn't bled so much beforehand, then he would have been past the point of no return by now.

He lifted his head off of his pillow, calling out into the empty room. The air felt stifling, despite the cool air blowing in from the open window.

"Elsa?"

When there was no answer, Logan exhaled heavily through his nose, looking up at a water stain on the ceiling above him. He blinked his eyes to chase away the darkness that threatened to take him under again as he took deep breaths, preparing his body to move in a way he knew it wasn't ready to.

With a pained groan, he somehow managed to sit up again and swing his legs over the side of the bed. With the coarse feel of rug fibers between his toes, he looked down at himself and took stock of his clothing, noting that he lacked a shirt and his boots, but still had his pants on. His tattoo and scars were once again out in the open, but Logan felt too sick to crawl around looking for his shirt to cover himself.

"Elsa?" he called out again, not really comprehending yet why he wasn't receiving an answer.

He noticed a vanity on the other side of the room with mirror. He hoisted himself to his feet and stumbled over, nearly crashing into it as he leaned most of his weight against it, panting harshly. Looking at himself in the mirror, Logan winced at his reflection. He looked like death warmed over - pale as a ghost with his dark hair sweat-soaked and disheveled even more so than normal. The skin beneath his eyes was hollow and dark with his cheeks burning a bright red. It was the same old song and dance and he looked just as he expected to. He didn't even chance peeking underneath his bandage, already knowing he probably couldn't stomach it.

None of this was new to him.

He sneered unattractively at his reflection before turning away, seeking out any sign of his fair-haired client - because that was what she was. A client. Foggy memories of his dream clouded his head, the most prominent being of Elsa, reminding him that he seriously needed to re-evaluate his priorities, reminding him not to care so much before he went and did something stupid like care _too_ much. Caring never amounted to anything good, especially in Logan's experience. It was better to be detached from people.

Anything less and he would be treading the same waters as those grinning yahoos downstairs.

He made it no secret that he didn't trust the freakshow couple. It didn't matter that they had yet to show any kind of aggression. Logan rarely knew kindness. To him, everybody was out to get something and nobody did anything for free. So forgive him if he found the middle aged couple who freely takes in a pair of young people as questionable as milk left out in the sun a little bit suspicious. Alternatively, if by the end it turned out they really didn't have an ulterior motive in lending a hand, then Logan would just think them the stupidest people alive.

He looked around the room searching for Elsa until his gaze landed on a neat stack of folded clothing on the chair next to the window. He reached out a trembling hand and twisted his fingers into the smooth, maroon material of what he instantly recognized to be Elsa's skirt. It was her skirt and blouse, here in the empty room without her in them. His stomach flipped and he was suddenly on full alert. His sickness went momentarily forgotten as he focused on the sounds coming from beneath his feet.

From what was probably the kitchen, Logan heard the muffled voices of the sickeningly saccharine couple talking. He tried to pick up Elsa's voice among the pointless drivel, but when he heard nothing, he gritted his teeth, realizing that she wasn't in the cabin.

"Goddammit," he cursed, turning towards the door.

He pulled it open as fast as his weak limbs would allow and disappeared into the hallway.

Downstairs on the ground floor was a serene picture of domestic bliss, with the couple basking in the warmth of their cozy kitchen as the walls of their home banished the cold weather beyond their threshold. They breathed the appetizing smell of their supper boiling on the stove while they enjoyed each others company in a comfortable silence. Nikki set aside a bowl of flour and crouched down to open the door of the cast iron stove.

"This fire is looking a bit weak. I should go out and grab another log before it starts snowing again. We'll need the stove later for our guest," she shut the door and latched it. "Would you keep an eye on the stew while I pop outside real quick, Sid? The carrots should be ready to go in."

Sidney looked up from his newspaper, folding down one of its corners. "Sure thing, darling."

He put his paper aside and stood up from the kitchen table, taking Nikki's place by the stove as his wife pulled on her coat and stepped out the front door, closing it behind her.

Sidney hummed in tune with the phonograph playing an easy melody from the living room as he set to work chopping up the bundle of carrots laying on the chopping board next to the stove. He cut the carrots into even pieces, bringing the knife down in rhythm with his humming. He remained oblivious to the figure moving around upstairs, unable to hear the creaks and groans of the loose floorboards in the hallway because of his music.

It wasn't until another squeak sounded from behind him that the older gentleman realized he was no longer alone. He put the knife down and turned, only to stare cross-eyed down the barrel of a revolver pointed in his face.

"You know, you should really lock these things up," Logan told him in a dry tone, his fingers curled tight around the grip of the firearm he found stashed underneath the couple's bed.

Sidney frowned, glancing between Logan and the gun with the first sign of nervousness that Logan had seen him show thus far. The ex-bandit held the gun perfectly still despite how badly he was shaking everywhere else. He stood with his feet the right distance apart, but his posture wasn't as keen. He stood hunched over still shirtless and pale, breathing deep and sweating from his fever as he stared at Sidney with steel eyes and a cold frown.

"And keeping bullets loaded in the chamber isn't very smart, either. Any lunatic could just come in and take it, and I guarantee underneath your bed is the first place they're going to look."

Raising his hands in front of him, Sidney swallowed thick, working his jaw to speak through the sudden dryness of his mouth. He eyed the gun with nervous eyes. "Now, son-"

"Don't call me son. I'm not your son," Logan snapped, keeping the gun on its mark. "Where's Elsa? Why the hell isn't she here?"

"She went into town to get you some medicine. You're very sick. You should sit down-"

Logan narrowed his eyes at him. "You let her go out there _alone_? Are you stupid, old man? Do you have any idea what could happen to her out there, the kind of people who would just love to find her walking around alone like that?"

Sidney kept his hands raised in appeasement to coax the younger man into lowering the gun. "She insisted on going by herself. Thought it would be safer if I stayed here just in case you woke up confused."

Logan let out a humorless snort before pulling back the hammer of the revolver with his thumb. The mechanical sound of metal against metal made a distinctive clink that echoed through the tense air of the cabin.

"Yeah, I can see how well that worked out for you."

Despite having a loaded gun aimed at his face, Sidney remained remarkably calm. He kept his eyes trained on Logan instead of darting them across the room, looking for an escape or something to protect himself with. There was the knife right behind him still on the cutting board. The older man either had the good sense to know that Logan would shoot him before he could even get close to it, or he decided trying to talk the ex-bandit down would be a better course of action. Which ever, Logan had to admire his ability to think under pressure. It would appear that good ol' Sid wasn't as thickheaded as he would lead others to believe. What the hell was up with that?

Nikki chose that moment to walk back in, stripping off her coat and stomping her snow-covered boots before stopping short when she saw the two men standing in the kitchen. She looked between the two with a confused smile, picking up on the heavy atmosphere of her kitchen until her eyes landed on the gun in Logan's hand.

"Oh goodness!" she gasped, dropping the log she was holding and placing a hand against her heart. "What's going on?"

Logan didn't look her way as he answered. "Your husband was just explaining to me why I'm missing a blonde. You wouldn't have seen her by any chance, have you? See, she's doesn't have a very good sense of direction, or self-preservation, so I'm kind of ticked off that you guys sent her into town alone."

Nikki opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by her husband.

"You should really sit down, before you hurt yourself," Sidney insisted again. "You look terrible and you should be in bed. There's nothing we can do about your missus now. She left hours ago and is probably on her way back as we speak. You're only aggravating your condition by moving around like this. I'm sure she'll raise holy hell if she came back and found you hooping and hollering like you are. It makes me think you're the one with the lack of self-preservation, son."

Logan let out another snort, wincing when it made his head swim.

With a dull ringing in his ears, he stood his ground, keeping his eyes trained on Sidney as he kept his ears on Nikki standing behind him, waiting for any sudden movements from either of them.

"Just go back upstairs," Sidney said, twinges of fear eating away at his composed expression. "Please."

It was faint, but Logan picked up on the hint of desperation in Sidney's tone. A subtle plea as he fought to keep his eyes on Logan and off his wife who, no doubt, was the cause of this anxiety in Sidney's person. It was then that Logan realized why the older man refrained from doing something stupid like lashing out in panic. His concern did not lie with himself, but with his wife and her safety.

Logan felt his distrust slip away, accepting that Sidney would never do anything to endanger his wife, which significantly lowered himself as a threat to Elsa and confirming what Logan had already suspected.

He continued to stare at the older man as he made a show of taking his finger off the trigger, informing him that Logan didn't have any intentions of shooting him or his wife. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Logan felt disgusted in himself. It wasn't a nice feeling knowing that someone believed you were capable of shooting them on the spot like that, but unfortunately Elsa took priority over his own self comfort at this point, and never let it be said that Logan didn't know how to prioritize.

Sidney's shoulders sagged with relief and he gave Logan a forced smile, promising, "she'll be back before you know it."

"She better be," Logan warned, finally lowering the gun, uncocking it. He turned towards the staircase and meandered back up the steps. "I'm keeping the gun."

"Whatever makes you feel more comfortable, son," Sidney called after him.

"And stop being so neighborly!"

The couple stood in silence as they listened to the sounds of Logan moving around upstairs.

"You know, Dear," Sidney said once they finally heard the guest room door slam shut. His previous fear slipped away and his pleasant smile returned, as if nothing had happened. "I'm beginning to think there's more to this pair than meets the eye. He seemed rather geared up, didn't he?"

Nikki released the breath she didn't realize she was holding, her shock subsiding at a much slower rate than her husband's. It amazed even her how her husband could be sometimes, how very little could phase him and how easy he could let things go. She counted their lucky stars that he was able to defuse the situation when he did, doubting that a more direct confrontation would have gone over as well. She gave her husband a trying side glance before she reached out and patted him fondly on the chest.

"Good job, Honey. Very observant of you. Now come help me finish cooking the stew before he finds the shotgun you have stashed away in the closet."

~O~

Another sigh slipped past pink lips as Elsa regarded the ravine below her.

The satchel of medicine still hung heavy at her side, beckoning her forward with its weight as it reminded her why she needed to keep going. She was right in assuming that she wouldn't want to climb back into the ravine because looking down on it now, she most certainly _did not_ want to climb back into that ravine.

Obviously, she had no other choice. She was only delaying the inevitable by doing so, but she allowed herself the brief whim of finding another way until she finally gathered up her nerve. She moved to climb down the rotted tree she had knocked over earlier.

She could see her horse atop the stone wall of the opposite side, still tied to the tree where she had left it. She scaled down the tree faster, feeling a burst of renewed energy. Crossing the ravine was really the last obstacle. Once she reached her horse, it was all a matter of riding on horseback until she reached Sidney and Nikki's cabin.

When she came to the overturned top of the tree, Elsa readjusted the satchel strap on her shoulder and jumped down on to the blanket of snow covering the ravine floor -

A loud crunch sounded from beneath her boot. Too loud to be snow or ice. Elsa could feel something hard snap through the sole of her boot.

Despite her urge to keep going, the queen looked down in confusion, seeing nothing but snow. She lifted her boot, kicking aside what ever it was that she had stepped on and bent over to fish it out of the snow. She held the object up in the light of the sun, examining it. At first she thought it was a twig, slender and fragile, one that had snapped off the tree she had knocked over, but further inspection revealed it to be too hard to be a twig. It was also a distinctive white color. A piece of bone.

The queen turned the small bone in her hands, looking it over with more confusion, wondering why she had stepped on a rib bone, which she hoped came from some kind of woodland creature.

With her brow now knitted together, she looked at the ground again, scanning it only to realize how much the snow obstructed her view. She knew she should just toss the bone away and keep moving, but she felt oddly committed to her investigation. She prodded at the snow with her boot, hearing more bones cracking beneath her weight.

Deciding to take the opportunity to further exercise her powers after keeping them dormant for so long, she flipped the snow up off the ground like tossing a bed sheet.

She reared back when she uncovered the tiny graveyard underneath where dozens of animal bones laid scattered on the ground. Elsa let out a gasp, losing her grip on the snow hanging in the air, making it to drop back down. Looking at her surroundings more closely this time, she noticed more piles of bones placed throughout the ravine. The white bones lied camouflaged in the snow, making them easy to overlook. The queen started to back up, a feeling of dread nipping at her skin just as the back of her heels hit something solid. The obstruction forced a sudden halt and Elsa fell backwards on to her bottom. She let out a groan, shaking her head before looking at the mass of fur laying prone underneath her legs.

She was scrambling back on to her feet when she saw the corpse of a dead deer, half eaten and half frozen. She let out a yelp, running her hands up and down herself to wipe off the skin-crawling sensation one got after touching something really disgusting. Shivers ran down her spine as her face twisted up.

Her mind was sent reeling, trying to work out what she had stumbled into as she looked around the ravine again.

It was then that her attention was drawn over to the forgotten cave she passed when first crossing. It was far off, but narrowing her eyes, she could faintly see something moving within the darkness inside. An odd echo of what sounded like panting began to drift out of the cave as the outline of something big overtook the entrance, stepping out into the sun.

It was a brown bear.

A massive brown bear.

Easily a few hundred pounds, with large paws the size of Elsa's head and a long snout. Its black nose twitched and huffed, scenting the air as it lumbered out of its den on all fours. It had a lot of bulk, causing its fur shift and shake with every step it took. It was huge. Much bigger than Elsa had ever heard of them being. If it stood back on its hind legs, she didn't doubt it would be at least ten feet tall, towering over her like a mountain of fur that smelled strongly of sourness and mildew. She could smell it all the way from where she stood, off to the farthest right of the ravine. Its ears twitched above its large head as it took in a deep whiff of open air.

It locked eyes on the queen, obsidian black with a metallic sheen like pebbles of hematite. There was a long, hollowing moment where nothing moved and the absence of noise left a dull ringing in Elsa's ears. Her breath became lodged in her throat and all she could do was stare wide-eyed as the bear worked out what it was seeing, still trying to comprehend its surroundings after being woken up prematurely from its hibernation.

Once the beast realized that Elsa was trespassing so closely to its den, its massive flank began to heave faster as instincts kicked in. She could see the aggression click into place as the bear flashed its teeth and pushed itself on to its hind legs, drawing to full height as a way of intimidation. It worked.

Blue eyes flickered between the bear and the staggered wall on the other side of the ravine, quickly gauging the distance and her chances of reaching the other side before the bear reached her. The moment of inaction ended as abruptly as it had begun when Elsa's flight-or-fight response finally kicked in and she made a run for the other end of the ravine.

From behind her, she heard the bear let out a roar as its front paws hit the ground again. She could feel the vibration of the impact from where she was, the strength and power behind it ricocheting up her legs. The bear charged her the moment it was back on all fours.

There wasn't a second to spare, she needed to get to the other side before she was mowed down by three hundred pounds of matted fur and teeth. If the bear was allowed the upper hand, even just once, not even Elsa's ice powers could help her. If it knocked her down, it was game over. It would be too much weight. Too overwhelming of a force.

Today in its entirety was a learning experience. It pumped her head full of undesirable knowledge that she could have gone her whole life without knowing, much less actually utilize. Adding to that - bears, apparently, were very fast despite their hulking size. The bear was on Elsa's heels in seconds, practically breathing its rancid breath down her neck before Elsa could barely make it past the halfway mark of the ravine.

When the bear was nearly on top of her, she spun around and threw her hands out, pulling up a wall of ice to put a solid barrier between her and the bear. It erupted from the ground in a formation of sharp spikes directly in the bear's path.

The bear was thrown by the obstruction, but was not phased. It crashed head first into the wall, scattering the ice with its thick skull and launching itself towards Elsa without a hitch. The ice made a loud sound as it broke, cracking like it was nothing more than a fragile cathedral window. Elsa gasped and brought her arms up to protect her face from the shards of ice that flew her way.

She must have been more rusty with her powers than she had thought. That barrier had been far thinner than she had intended. It was meant to be dense enough to bring the bear to a full stop, giving her the chance to make it the rest of the way to the wall. Now the bear was almost right in front of her and using only evasive maneuvers wasn't in the cards.

Coming within striking distance, the bear brandished its claws at Elsa. The queen jumped to the side to avoid the charge and ducked just as one of the beast's massive paws swiped over her head. Knowing that she needed to keep as much distance between herself and the bear until she could make her escape, Elsa threw her hands up again, conjuring up another wall of ice, angling it this time to curl inwards to cocoon herself. When the bear backtracked from its overshot charge, it batted at her shield with its paws, managing to fracture the flawless surface as it relentlessly threw force at it, near rabid to get at the woman inside.

Elsa remained hunkered down behind her shield until one of the bear's paws broke through the top, raining tiny shards of ice over her head. It swung its paw inside through the ceiling of her enclosure and swiped blindly. She ducked out of the way, shooting off an ice blast in the same movement, covering the deadly claws. The bear recoiled as the bitter cold seeped through thick fur and burned the skin hidden beneath. It yanked free of the hole, tearing away what was left of the ice structure in the process, leaving Elsa exposed.

The bear smashed its trapped paw against the ground, shattering the ice encasing. It then looked back at Elsa, bearing its yellowed teeth and letting out another roar that shook the queen's bones, charging at her once more.

Elsa scrambled to her feet, letting out a shout when she narrowly avoided another swipe aimed for her head. She took up a defensive stance, planting her feet firmly against the ground.

Now running more on adrenaline than fear, she threw both hands forward, gathering up as much pent up energy as she could and shooting forth a miniature blizzard at the bear, curling it into a tunnel that fit between her hands and made it easier for her control. Shards of glowing ice and snow blew from her open palms as she held them out in front of her, sending a powerful gust at the bear. It hit dead on, forcing the creature on to its hind legs to keep from being sent to the ground. It took the blunt of the blizzard blast with its chest and stomach, pushing on.

The bear was as riled up as the queen, both on the defensive and battling to overpower the other. Logically, Elsa knew that this was her fault. That she was the trespasser in this situation, and that the bear was only reacting as it rightfully should. She did rudely awaken it from its cozy hibernation, after all - shooting off ice blasts and knocking down trees. But her own aggression flare up in retaliation. The more she used her powers, the more her confidence grew and her fear took a backseat to it all.

Before this whole kidnapping business, Elsa had been practicing with her powers in a more defensive setting, building up her skills in basic combat (or at least what she assumed was basic combat. She didn't exactly have a teacher she could ask). She wasn't a master at it, not even close, but she had become more sure footed in that department. Enough to be able to defend herself if fleeing wasn't an option.

She didn't need to fight this bear to the death. She just needed to slow it down long enough to grant her a chance to climb out of the ravine. She was nearly to the other side. So close, she just needed one last push.

The bear rebelled against the gust still being sent its way, but gradually began to slow down as Elsa readjusted her footing, willing the blizzard to blow stronger. Her face was twisted up in a fierce display of concentration, her brow knitted tight and her teeth gritted in a determined scowl, giving back just as much as she was given.

The bear's fur coat was now icing over and the bear moved slower every inch, hunching down on all fours to stop itself from being swept away. Elsa continued to push until, finally, it lost its grip on the ice that coated the ground beneath it. Its claws lost purchase and left long scratch marks that produced a sound akin to nails raking down a chalkboard as the bear was forced upright once more.

Elsa seized the opening and released one last, powerful burst of her powers, hitting the bear directly in the chest and knocking it off balance. It stumbled in reverse on its hind legs until it timbered on to its back in a mass of frozen fur and snow. Elsa didn't waste the opportunity to run. She dropped her hands and spun on her heel, cutting off the strong flow of winter magic and making a mad dash towards the other end of the ravine.

She stumbled into it painfully and scrambled up the staggered rocks. The rough stone bit into the soft skin of her palms, breaking off a fingernail or two. She felt a sharp tug around her neck and heard the sound of fabric ripping in her haste, but she didn't stop until she was practically crawling out of the ravine, pulling herself up and out like a bat out of hell.

Once she was fully atop the stone wall and well out of the bear's reach, Elsa collapsed on to her back, her chest heaving from the effort. Her hands latched on to the satchel still hooked around her torso. She nearly cried out in relief that the products of her labor were still firmly in her possession, and not laying on the ravine floor with the bear that almost clawed her face off.

She spared just one glance back into the ravine. The bear had gotten up and was shaking the ice from its fur. It looked around in search for its small, but surprisingly formidable, opponent. It didn't look up where Elsa sat on top of the wall, missing the queen entirely as the drive to protect its territory dimmed. The bear let out a huff of clouded breath through its nose before slowly turning its large body back to its den, slivers of ice still falling from its heavy pelt.

Elsa watched it go. Her cloak laid abandoned at the base of the ravine wall where it had gotten caught on a rock and was ripped from her shoulders.

The queen climbed gingerly to her feet, still breathing heavy from her ordeal. With seemingly lead-filled limbs, she walked over to her horse and untied the reigns without another look back. She only readjusted the satchel of supplies at her side before hoisting herself atop the horse with a winded grunt, her skin tingling and her blood pumping fast through her veins from lingering adrenaline. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking.

It was nearly past dusk and Nikki was waiting out on the porch of her home when Elsa finally came into view. She eyed the frazzled state Elsa was in, noting how fast she rode in and her missing cloak and the concerning rips in the dress Nikki had loaned her. The queen had barely stumbled off her horse, practically throwing the satchel of medicine into the older woman's hands, before she was on Nikki. She searched the brunette's face for bad news. She stared with wild eyes, dreading the idea that despite her very best efforts, she might be too late for any of this to have mattered.

"Logan? Is he- am I-?"

Nikki held up a hand, gesturing for her to be calm as she gave Elsa a reassuring smile. "He's alright. You got back in time. He's up in bed, resting."

A wave of relief washed over Elsa as she let out a shaky breath, feeling the last of the adrenaline finally leave her body. The events of today took its toll, slotting into place in the forefront of her mind, making the queen feel battered and exhausted. She gave the older woman a thankful smile, her eyelids drooping a little.

There were no words to describe how grateful she was to the couple. It was like Tobias all over again.

"Thank you so much for looking after him. I didn't mean to take as long as I did, but it seems like someone above really didn't want me to get my hands on these supplies."

Elsa thought about bringing up the part about the bear, but decided not to, even though she felt the need to have a word or two with Sidney for not warning her about it to begin with. Nikki seemed like the motherly kind and Elsa wasn't in the mood to be fussed over. She was okay. She accomplished what she set out to do and returned whole and intact, for the most part.

Nikki patted her on the back, holding up the satchel with a winning smile. "And yet you persevered beautifully. That boy doesn't give you nearly enough credit, you know that? Sidney and I never doubted you for a second, though."

"He wasn't any trouble while I was gone, was he?"

"No, no trouble at all," Nikki laughed, ushering Elsa into the warmth of the cabin. "Now come inside before you freeze to death."

~O~

Logan woke up from his light doze at the sound of the guest room door closing. The ancient latch producing a loud click that echoed through the quiet of the room.

"You pulled a gun on them?"

He lifted his head from his pillow and spotted Elsa standing at the end of the bed. Hazel eyes scanned over her body while ignoring the disapproving look being burned into the skin of his forehead.

With a quick, scrutinizing once-over, he took in her ragged appearance. She looked suspiciously battered and roughed up, like she had taken another spontaneous nose dive off a water fall, but didn't appear to be injured otherwise. He pushed aside the relief he felt, tucking it way down deep where he didn't have to analyze it as he pulled himself up on to his elbows. He caught the look Elsa threw at the still loaded firearm resting on the bedside table.

He shrugged one shoulder, as if his reaction had been well on the spectrum of rationality. "I woke up and you weren't here. What would you have done?"

"Uh, I don't know, politely ask them what happened after I blacked out, maybe? Like any other sane individual would have. Seriously, that wasn't good, Logan. If they wanted to kick us out on our butts for the little stunt you pulled, they would have every right to. In fact, I would hardly blame them for it. They probably think you're some gun-toting psychopath running from the law or something, which wouldn't be too far off the mark!"

"Yeah well, fortunately for us not even a loaded gun aimed between their eyes could phase those two," Logan replied as he pulled himself up further so he could sit with his back against the headboard. "Why do you smell like a barn?"

Elsa raised a hand, letting out a long-suffered sigh. "Please, let's not go there right now. Long story short, I had to hitch a ride with a bunch of sheep, break in and steal medicine from a jerk doctor, and fight a bear that was _not_ happy to see me standing in its front yard."

"You had to fight a _what_?"

She shook her head, waving her arms out in front of her in finality. "Nope, not getting into that right now. I'm too exhausted. You wouldn't believe the day I've had."

"You'll have to tell me all about it sometime," he smiled an amused, lopsided smile, watching the woman walk over to the reading chair by the window.

She shed the patchwork quilt Nikki had draped over her shoulders, insisting that Elsa use it to warm herself up. He had already picked up on the fact that she wasn't effected by the cold the same way everybody else was. No doubt because of her powers. That would explain a lot of things he had noticed about the blonde early on in their journey but had overlooked. Eventually he would have to go back and re-analyze a few things so he could figure out just how in the hell he didn't notice Elsa had ice powers until the last possible second. It didn't sit well with his perceptive nature.

He leaned his head back, rubbing at his tired eyes and blinking the fuzziness from his vision as he listened to Elsa kick off her boots, letting out an euphoric sigh before plopping down boneless into her chair.

"Don't let me make you feel self conscious, though. I bet I'm pretty rank too by now, rolling around in an orchard filled with rotten apples and nearly bleeding out. I shook a couple of seeds out of my hair earlier, and enough mush to make bucket of apple sauce with. I probably smell like something died and then got baked into an pie."

He chuckled half-heartedly at his own joke, the underlined ridiculousness of it all not lost on him. It wasn't exactly funny, but if you can't laugh on your near death bed, when can you laugh? Elsa looked up from where she had pulled her satchel into her lap, regarding him with a sad expression. He didn't look any better since she had last seen him this morning. He was so pale, like he already had one foot planted firmly in his grave.

"You almost did die, smart-alec," she said softly.

Silence fell over them as they looked at each other. Nothing was said out loud, but a confirmation of worry on both ends transpired. Logan averted his eyes from hers, telling himself that he hadn't seen genuine concern in those blue irises. He stared up at the ceiling instead.

"What ever doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, right? I probably wouldn't have died, anyways. I'm nowhere near that lucky," he looked at her again, feeling more composed and able to handle her soft features without experiencing that annoying fluttering feeling in his stomach, which he realized had nothing to do with blood loss, and everything to do with Elsa.

He smiled lazily at her, feeling the need to offer comfort that he wasn't sure she even needed. "Don't worry, though, I promise I won't keel over without making sure I get you home and tucked safely into bed first."

Elsa stared at him, speechless with her mouth set in a firm line. Logan fidgeted under her intense gaze, getting the distinct impression that he had just said something wrong.

"What?"

She held her gaze for a couple more seconds before letting out a disbelieving scoff, looking away from him and shaking her head.

"Unbelievable."

"What is?"

"You are."

Logan blinked at her as Elsa stood from her chair, fixing him with a blank look.

"Wait, I'm not saying you made the trip for nothing-"

"Oh just shut up and take these," she snapped, tossing the satchel on his stomach and ignoring the indignant "_ow!"_ it drew from him. She turned towards the door, opening it. "I'm going to take a bath. Nikki's brewing the willow bark and meadowsweet into a tea for you to drink. If you're not feeling too much like yourself, please exercise a little self control and don't shoot her when she opens the door. That would just be the big red cherry on top of this really fun day for me."

"Hey! Hold on a minute," he called to her, sitting up. "Don't be mad!"

Logan went ignored as he listened to Elsa's footsteps disappear down the hall.

"And you're welcome!" he heard her shout before she slammed the bathroom door shut.

The ex-bandit let out a long groan, leaning back against the headboard and staring up at the ceiling again.

"Perfect."

* * *

**AN: Geez, feverish Logan is much more dangerous than feverish Elsa. At least Elsa never pulled a gun on somebody. **

**I'm not sure what to feel about this chapter. It really diverges from the main journey, but now that Elsa's powers are up in the open, I wanted to give her a chance to use them, to show how much she's improved in combating with her powers. We've already seen how artistic she can be with them in Frozen. I'm afraid she probably won't have much of an opportunity to use them in that context, but I'm not worried about writing scenes where she uses them in a whimsical way since we've already seen so much of that. We only got a mere glimpse of what she can do when using her powers to fight so that seemed more prudent.**

**Special thanks to my beta, Batman1809, for helping me with the bear scene. And thanks to wintermoonqueen for acting as an extra set of eyes for this chapter.**

**~Scorpiofreak~ **


	17. Uncharted Territory

**AN: Thanks so much for the reviews! Glad to hear that people are still listening. Sorry for the sort of late update. I haven't been feeling too good lately and it left me pretty scatterbrained. **

**There's another set of new OC's coming into the story, but they're all just one-off characters needed to help advance the plot. I mean, if you guys like the new characters, I might include some added narration on them in later chapters, or bring them back in a sequel or something, if I ever decide to write one. So if you do end up liking these new OC's, make sure to let me know. If you don't, they won't be around for long. **

**Even though they really only have single-chapter roles, I try to make them as interesting as possible in the brief time that we see them. We meet just one of the new OC's in this chapter, but next chapter we'll meet the others.**

**Warnings: Mild cursing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or its characters.**

* * *

It was funny how the universe seemed to conspire against her at every possible opportunity. It was relentless in its resolve and never failed to remind her that life was generally cruel and unfair, and that now was no different.

"You can't be serious."

Logan looked at her.

"What?"

Elsa stared up at the road sign picketed at the base of the intersecting road. Her eyes burned into the highest arrow and the words scrawled across it in disbelief, battling the urge to simultaneously laugh hysterically and sob at the tragic irony of it, convinced that someone above had it out for her.

_'Kingdom of Weselton, 7 miles Northbound'_

She tore her eyes away from the post and looked at Logan. He stood off to her left with their supply pack resting at his feet and their new map in his hands. They had been on the road since early morning the previous day with Sidney and Nikki. It had been two days since Elsa brought back the medicine for her companion before he was finally feeling well enough to travel again, much to everyone's relief. Sidney and Nikki offered to take the queen and the ex-bandit as far they could in their stagecoach to the kingdom where Logan planned to hitch them a ride on a trading ship that would dock as close to Arendelle as possible, if not straight to the kingdom itself.

After discovering the intended kingdom, Elsa doubted they would find any ships sailing to Arendelle, or even remotely close to it.

She shook her head, taking a step back from the sign. "I can't go to Weselton."

"Why not?"

"Because it has to be some kind of infringement or conflict of interest for someone like me to enter that kingdom's territory."

He lowered their map and gave her a funny look. "Infringem- What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about _me_, Logan - me being a citizen of Arendelle. My kingdom and their kingdom have a very precarious relationship. They're not exactly on good terms right now."

Logan blinked at her, staring without comprehension before shrugging his shoulders. "So?"

She bit back a noise of frustration, trying to will him into understanding with a frown. It fell short with no surprise. Even if Logan did pick up what she was trying to drop, he still probably would have made her say it out loud just because he was sadistic like that. Annoying prat.

"We used to be very close partners in trade, but our alliance was broken when Arendelle had one of its high ranking officials forcibly removed from the kingdom. All trading and communication had ceased over night and nobody's even tried to reestablish connections since then. The Duke does _not_ like the royal family."

"Okay, and?"

"What do you mean 'and'? Did you not just hear what I said?"

"So, what? You think they're going to have a picture of you posted at the gates, reading 'Do not serve - Arendelle scum'?"

She bit her tongue.

'_I wouldn't be surprised._'

"Who cares what their relationship is with your kingdom? It's not like we're looking to lease a summer home there. We're just going down to the docks to meet up with my friend, then we're on the next ship out of here. So settle, sister. Nobody's going to recognize an Arendelle castle servant lurking in their midst."

Of course he wouldn't understand. She was still common folk in his eyes. He was right on some level, though. It would be ridiculous to think they would recognize any random citizen of Arendelle just out of the blue. But it wouldn't be so ridiculous to think they would at least know the reigning queen's face. Elsa couldn't even imagine how ill the Duke of Weselton had spoken of her when he returned to his kingdom after being kicked out of Arendelle for being a little weasel of a man (no pun intended) who conspired against her rule. He probably spun all sorts of tales to paint her in a bad light to his people, claiming that she was a wicked monster that nearly impaled him on ice at her coronation and damned her entire kingdom to a frozen hell.

It wouldn't be completely unreasonable to worry that the queen might be considered public enemy number one. Elsa had no idea what Weselton's relationship was like with other kingdoms, but The Duke seemed arrogant when he was in Arendelle, even more so when he was being booted out of it, like he had never been treated in such a way by anyone and he couldn't believe their boorish behavior towards such an important asset. Recognition would condemn her. And since Logan was still in the dark about her title, and such a revelation under those circumstances wasn't in the least bit ideal way to break the news to him - he might even join in on the lynching.

The thought had her arms wrapping around her middle in a gesture of self comfort.

"But what if they do recognize me and...I don't know, attack us or something?"

Logan frowned at her, shifting his weight as he regarded her with a surprised look, almost as if he couldn't believe she had just said that.

"They're not animals, Elsa. Just because the people in charge are pricks, doesn't mean by extension their citizens are the same way. They're loyal to the law of the land, but they're still entitled to their own opinions. Don't be presumptuous about an entire community of people just because you have bad blood with a few of their rotten apples. They're just regular people making their way through their regular lives. Being a civil servant yourself, I would have thought you'd understand that better than most."

She turned her eyes towards the ground, realizing that not only was Logan right, but that he had also taken some kind of personal offense to her remark. And he did have a point. Despite being their closest partner in trade since Arendelle had been first established, Elsa had never actually been to Weselton. She didn't know what to expect, from both the kingdom and its citizens. Maybe she should rethink the nickname, Weasletown. At least until she actually saw the place and confirmed it wasn't really a melting pot of thieves, scoundrels and conniving cockroaches like its charming duke. Emphatically, Elsa wouldn't want her own citizens demonized for her transgressions as an "ice witch" if the tables were turned.

"And besides," Logan said, folding up their map. "If anything, they're more likely to take issue with me. From what I heard, Weselton has had bandit troubles in the past. Not with Dag's gang - some other group. But they probably know the type when they see it, and I'm sure I just scream it."

Looking at him, Elsa wasn't so sure about that. Maybe when they first started out, Logan definitely gave off that shady vibe, but not so much anymore. Not since Nikki had graciously provided him with some new clothes (their kindness truly knew no bounds). There had been so much blood staining his old ones that it wasn't even worth trying to scrub it all out, so they just decided to bin the whole lot. As luck would have it, Nikki still had some of her son's clothing from when he was Logan's age stashed away in their attic and the woman claimed they were roughly the same size.

Elsa remembered the morning they had set out, when Logan had emerged from the couple's home and faced the morning sun for the first time in almost four days. The difference in his appearance from then to just last week had been absolutely striking. His sickly pallor was gone and his skin almost glowed with the promise of renewed health. He had bathed the night before and stood clean and fresh shaven. The new clothing Nikki had given him added to the change. When she said that Logan and her son were "roughly" the same size, she might as well have just skipped the pleasantries because they fit perfectly.

He stepped out on to the porch wearing brown trousers and another pair of work boots, this time in brown and in better condition. He had shed his leather suspenders and replaced them with a regular belt where his hunting knife was tucked in the leather sheath resting on his hip. A deep blue shirt only shades lighter than his navy scarf clung to his long torso, with the neckline buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He also had a leather gun holster looped around his shoulders and crossed on his back with Sidney's pistol tucked into the holder (Elsa had tried to get Logan to return the firearm, but the stubborn man refused to relinquish it the entire time he had been bedridden. Thankfully Sidney never asked for it back).

Probably the most notable change was the way he wore his hair. The dark strands were swept back lazily in a neat style and no longer hung in front of his eyes like he couldn't be bothered to do something about it. It was such a small change that made the biggest difference. Elsa couldn't help but stare as he stepped down from the porch and helped Sidney load up the stagecoach. It was more than a little jarring. She had only ever seen him wear dull grays and blacks before. He looked almost younger like this, more open with the nice blue color of his shirt. Not to mention the new clothing was incredibly flattering. He took a deep breath of fresh air, the thin material of the shirt stretching tighter across his chest where Elsa's eyes lingered for just a moment longer than they should have.

It was almost as if she was looking at a whole new person, and it seemed to reflect in his attitude as well for he had been in a remarkably good mood that morning. She understood the shift. After being reduced to that deathly weak state because of his blood condition, it was a wonder how Logan wasn't breaking out in song with how good he must have been feeling at that moment. The storm had finally passed and it was as if it hadn't even happened.

But unfortunately it had, and it would be an experience Elsa would never forget. She could still make out the faint outline of gauze wrapped around his upper arm through his shirt sleeve. The wound was still there and eventually it would heal over into another scar for him to carry. Another shiny coin to add to his collection. Because of her.

She wondered if he would carry her scar as well as he carried the others. Without complaint, or regret.

"Now come on," Logan said, cutting into Elsa's thoughts as he picked up their pack and swung it over his shoulder. "I want to get there before noon and we have a long walk ahead of us."

"Fine," Elsa sighed. "But I think it would be in everybody's best interest if we avoid the Duke. He's the third most horrid man I have ever met with the first most horrid toupee I have ever seen. He won't think twice about making a scene if he thinks we're there to cause trouble."

"Geez, that's a pretty mean thing to say about someone. Sounds more like something I would say. What did that guy do to get on your shit list? Leave you at the alter?"

Her lip curled up with disgust. "No! Don't even joke about that! I'd rather freeze myself in a block of my own ice than be in the same room as him. Let alone entertain the idea of being - ugh, married to him."

Logan laughed. "Okay fine. I'm not much for awkward reunions anyways."

She gave him a dubious look, not trusting the devilish smirk she knew he was hiding. "But seriously, if you wanted to avoid your ex-boyfriend, all you had to do was just say so."

She raised her hand threateningly at him, a blue hue emanating from between her fingers as she glared at him. "I swear to God, Logan. I'll freeze your mouth shut if you don't knock it off!"

"I'm just saying I understand where you're coming from. Running into an ex can be hell," Logan barely got out the last part before he broke out into a fit of laughter. Her expression was priceless.

Elsa launched herself at him with a growl and he quickly jumped back out of her range, avoiding her boot when she opted to stomping on his toes instead.

"Alright, forfeit, forfeit!" He took off down the road still laughing.

She walked off after him with an annoyed huff, grumbling under her breath, "I liked you better when you were unconscious from blood loss."

What a great way to start a seven mile hike to a place she didn't want to go.

They had parted ways with Sidney and Nikki only an hour earlier. The couple did as they had promised by taking her and Logan halfway to Weselton. They kept their goodbyes brief, only because Elsa could hardly put her gratitude into words without tripping over herself. She never did get Logan to apologize for pulling their own gun on them, but the couple didn't hold a grudge. They dismissed his behavior and chalked it up to the fever, saying that they understood how someone could get turned around when suffering from an illness. Elsa was all too aware that Logan's actions had little to do with his fever and everything to do with being a paranoid ass, but she kept that to herself.

Logan did, however, surprise the queen when he gave the couple a two fingered salute as they turned their wagon around and headed off for home. Elsa made sure to commit the name of the town to memory so she could one day come back and properly thank the couple for everything they did. Yes, that would let the cat out of the bag about her really being the queen of Arendelle, but surely once they realized who they had helped and why Elsa kept it all a secret, they would forgive her for her dishonesty. Would anyone have done any different if they were in her situation? Probably not.

Now, if only she was so sure about Logan.

Elsa let out a defeated sigh as she pulled cloak number three closer to her body and followed Logan, making their way North. Snow crunched beneath their boots and their breath clouded in front of their faces. Despite the snow, it was a nice day weather wise. The sun was out and there wasn't a breeze strong enough to even ruffle their hair. Logan wore a brown wool jacket that Nikki had given him to replace the one he lost God knows where, and they managed to track down yet another cloak for Elsa to wear over her usual cream blouse and maroon skirt.

Unlike Logan, Elsa wasn't feeling quite so chipper. The fact that they were inching ever closer to one of the worst places she could ever hope not to go, didn't do much for her mood either.

"I can't believe they actually put up with you," she spoke up after a while, desperate for a distraction. "Sidney and Nikki have got to be the nicest couple ever for everything they did for us, despite how ungrateful you acted. They deserve some kind of award, or a knighthood."

She had half a mind to do just that once she finally returned home.

"I can't imagine ol' Sidney wasting time being cross with me. Not with ye last yonder gradually approaching in sight. That sort of thing really brings out the profundity in a person - makes them much more tolerant of other people's bullshit. I'm just an annoying bee sting compared to everything he's got going on right now. I could never compete."

Elsa looked up from her boots. "What sort of thing?"

With her trailing a few steps behind him, Elsa missed the way Logan frowned, debating whether he should tell the blonde what he had discovered during their stay with the couple, since she clearly hadn't picked up on it herself. It had been their second day staying with the couple and Logan had woken up in the middle of the night with a pounding headache and a full bladder. After stumbling around in the dark until he found the right room, he was on his way back to his own when he heard it. Violent coughing coming from down the hall where their hosts slept.

It was a deep-seeded, full bodied cough, like the lungs were heavy tree sap. A cough that left one gasping every time a fit racked through their form that grew more fragile the deeper it burrowed into their system. Logan remembered back during his time with Barley, when one of the clan's older members developed a similar cough that never went away. It stuck with the poor bastard like burning tar right up until the end when his last words were near indistinguishable through all the painful retching. Logan felt understanding dawn on him then as he watched candlelight spill out from underneath the door and the soothing voice of Nikki muffled through the wood. A sickness, then. The kind that didn't get better with camphor oil or a hot bowl of chicken soup. It put a few things into perspective for him.

'_A dead man won't flinch when he finds himself on the business end of a barrel if he's already rotting from the inside out._'

He lingered in the darkness of the hallway for a few more seconds waiting to see if the coughing would subside. When it didn't, he shook his head in a rare gesture of empathy for a complete stranger before going back to his room.

"Nothing," he told Elsa.

He could feel her eyes on him, but he didn't turn around lest she badger him further. Logan's opinion of the couple had changed throughout their stay, much to the point where he would have thanked them if he wasn't so sure it would incite a smug grin from Elsa. But the blonde saw the couple as a godsend, much like she did with Tobias. He didn't have the heart to relay this grim information. At least not right now when she had bigger things to deal with than worrying about an ailing man who was beyond help at this point.

Silence to settle between them as they walked. At about the halfway mark he threw a glance over his shoulder at Elsa. She kept her gaze glued to her feet as she walked.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked.

"Yes," she deadpanned, not even wasting the effort of pretending she wasn't upset with him for what he had said after she brought back that medicine for him.

"Come on, I apologized like a hundred times already," he almost whined. He turned around and started walking backwards, holding out his arms at his sides. "I admitted you did good getting me that medicine, didn't I? That's twice now that you saved my skin and you are a smart, strong, amazing woman, because I can assure you, I usually avoid situations like that. Is that what you want to hear? Can we just forget about it already?"

No. They couldn't. Because the lack of recognition for her efforts wasn't why she was angry with him. Elsa didn't need Logan to tell her she did a good job. She didn't need someone to pat her on the head like a dog that just performed a new trick. She was perfectly capable of recognize her own achievements, and while a nice "Thank You" wouldn't go unappreciated, she didn't need someone to validate them with praise.

No, she was upset with how poorly Logan regarded himself. It was like whenever Anna referred to herself as "the spare". Elsa was never comfortable when people forewent their own needs for hers, whether they did it because she was their queen and their loyalty to the crown compelled them to, or if they did it because she was their sister or friend. It made her feel like they were placing her on top of some holy pedestal even though she was just as cracked and flawed as they were and obligation drove her to protect them just as much. Her feelings did not outweigh their pain, no matter what they saw her as. A queen, a sister, a friend, a...it didn't matter.

She stopped walking, halting in the middle of the road.

"No, we can't just forget about it, because you should know it isn't about recognizing that I did something helpful. I could case less about that. It's about you and how you made light of a serious situation, _again._ You make it sound like you don't even care what happens to you."

"Maybe that's because I don't. Did you ever think of that?"

"No, because that's horrible. You don't really think that about yourself, do you?"

"No, of course not. I love myself. I think I'm fantastic," he replied, "but if I want to undervalue my existence, then that's my business. Don't burden yourself by worrying about me. You got enough to worry about already. Don't be putting your bleeding heart on my shoulders. This shirt is new. And I don't see why it matters anyway because the fact of the matter is _I_ was hired to escort _you_. Not the other way around. Let's not forget that now."

She rolled her eyes and marched past him, nearly knocking shoulders.

"Let's just stop talking."

She heard him scoff behind her, "Fine by me."

It was silence the rest of the way to their destination. The walk was long and Elsa could feel a new set of blisters forming on her feet, but the discomfort in those gave way to discomfort of a whole different magnitude when they finally came into view of the kingdom of Weselton. They stood on an overhung cliff that put the kingdom in the not-too-far distance in full view.

It was bigger than Arendelle, but Elsa knew for a fact that their surrounding territory beyond the actual kingdom didn't extend nearly as far as her kingdom's did, and it wasn't as scenic. It lacked the high grounding, lush forests and bordering mountains of hers, but it made up for it by being mostly on the water. Already she could tell that Weselton's port district was going to be massive. The castle was set in the center of the kingdom, tall and bulky and more closely resembling a fortress with classic gothic architecture. Banners depicting Weselton's kingdom colors, dark blue and red, decorated the castle and surrounding wall in the same way Arendelle's did.

Fortunately, the front gates lacked a Queen Elsa of Arendelle wanted poster. The guards posted out front barely gave her and Logan a second glance as they entered the kingdom, but the queen still stared up at the drawn iron gate overhead as they passed through the stone archway with a feeling akin to the one she had gotten when she had first stepped into that bear-inhabited ravine. The inside had the workings of a far more familiar atmosphere with the buzz of life loud in her ears as citizens flitted about their daily routines, not once looking in her direction. Whereas the outside had a bit of an aggressive, less welcoming look to it. Elsa made sure to stick close to Logan as they moved further into the belly of the beast.

'_The streets are so congested here_,' Elsa thought as she and Logan entered the crowd-filled streets. "_Everything's so close together, there's barely any room between people's homes and the shops. How can people move around with so little elbow space?_"

The buildings were tall and slim, like elongated shadows in the late afternoon. The architecture was sharp and crooked like the buildings were pieces of a puzzle meshed into a tight fit with little regard for the ones jammed in the wrong place. The kingdom seemed more industrial than what Elsa had ever been exposed to before, even though the architecture and cobblestone streets betrayed the kingdom's seasoned age. The townsfolk made their way through the streets like churning cogs in a well-oiled clock. Everybody looked like they had a job to do.

Despite it giving off that in sync, worker bee mentality with its people, Weselton really did look like an average, run of the mill kingdom. Elsa could feel twinges of guilt nibble away at her insides for all the times she called it Weasletown, or thought ill of anyone who resided there other than the Duke.

And she was right about the port district. The closer they got, the stronger the smell of salt in the air became. When her and Logan made it out the other side, she couldn't help but stare. It was _huge_, with warehouses and fisheries and a gorgeous boardwalk that ran along the water. Little shops followed the length of the boardwalk as far as the cobble went before giving way to wood and a network of colorful merchant tents. It was even more packed than the kingdom marketplace. Elsa knew that Weselton was a massive buoy in the sea of trading, so much so it didn't even have a main export, but she had no idea just how big it was.

They made a beeline for a tent selling cutlery with a young woman sitting in front, fanning herself with an oriental fan from a tent three spaces down. Logan whistled through his fingers to get her attention, causing Elsa and several nearby patrons to cringe at the sound. The woman at the table stopped fanning herself and looked their way. Her eyes danced along the crowd until they landed on the pair, widening as her jaw dropped a little. Logan laughed at her expression as a big smile spread across her face and excitement had her fidgeting in her seat.

Elsa tried to stay close behind Logan, but he moved through the crowd with vigor; it was difficult to keep up. The woman stood up as they approached, using the back of her chair to support her weight as she pulled herself on to her feet. The material of her green dress stretched tightly across her stomach, making her delicate position obvious.

"Logan!" she greeted, opening her arms to him.

The ex-bandit accepted the hug without hesitation, dipping down a little to allow the woman to wrap her arms around his neck as he returned the embrace, being mindful of her frame. Elsa stood back watching the display with a curious eye. It was obvious that the two knew each other, but the queen had never seen Logan act so forward with another person. He looked genuinely happy to see the woman.

She had long, strawberry blonde hair, like Anna, but more fair blonde than red in color. It cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves, partially pinned back with a brass hair pin and a wisp of bangs that hung down over her forehead, skimming pale brown eyes that matched the leather belt of her dress. Her clothing suggested a well-off commoner, but she was absolutely gorgeous. She could've been wearing tattered rags and it still wouldn't have taken away how stunning she was. A heavy splash of freckles decorated the bridge of her nose and her smile was dazzling with a subtle overbite that only added to her gentle image.

"I was wondering when you would grace us with your presence again," the woman said, pulling back to look at him with her hands on his shoulders.

She looked like the fragile type, with sensitive skin and bones like a baby bird, very slender with the exception of her pregnant stomach and a narrow, angular face. Logan's frame nearly swallowed hers as they embraced.

"Damn, Huginn knocked you up again?" he smiled, taking his hand off the small of her back and placing it on top of her swollen tummy. "Which one is this, number eight?"

"Oh God no!" she laughed, "Number three."

"Well you look positively radiant, my doe-eyed dear. I could practically see you glowing all the way from the upper street market."

She let out a snort, tugging playfully on Logan's scarf. "That was probably just sweat. Thank god Huginn snagged us a spot close to the water, otherwise I'd be sweating enough to fill buckets. I swear, I've had heartburn for like three months now. This kid's trying to break me."

"Mm, I love it when you talk dirty."

"Oh shut up," she laughed again, shoving him playfully rough on his shoulder.

Elsa stood behind the two, watching their exchange and marveling at how relaxed Logan was with their friendly flirting and his snide remarks that held not an ounce of malice. She wondered who this woman was and what she was to Logan. She was definitely a friend. Possibly even an old lover with how familiar they acted with each other. The woman failed to notice Elsa and Logan paid her little mind, probably forgetting she was even there. Elsa would have been offended if she hadn't been so thrown.

"Where's the rest of your motley crew?" he looked over the top of her head and scanned the empty tent behind her.

"Back home. Their _Mormor_ is watching them."

Elsa continued to watch the pair as they fell into easy conversation with Logan willingly asking the woman questions about her children, how their cutlery business was doing this year, Weselton's trading and distributing taxes and even the weather - all the things Logan usually couldn't care less about. Elsa had never heard him sound so average, chewing the fat like a _normal_ person would as if it was something he did everyday. The ex-bandit was never one for pleasantries such as the ones he was tossing out so carefree as if he wasn't deathly allergic to ordinary human interactions like he had Elsa once believe.

"So, what do you need from Huginn?" the woman asked. "Nothing that'll get him in trouble, I hope. You know I hate that."

He gave her a half-assed smile of innocence.

"What makes you think I need anything from him? Can't a guy just drop in for a nice, spontaneous visit with an old friend without needing something from them?"

She threw back an unimpressed frown. "I've known you long enough to know that you don't just "drop in" on people, especially since no one's seen or heard from you in almost three years, not since you left behind all that nasty bandit business and took off to reinvent yourself - or whatever the heck you've been getting up to lately. I don't even want to know."

"Never could fool you, could I, Celeste? Too smart for me," he chuckled, reaching up to gently run his hand through a lock of her strawberry blonde hair in a fond gesture. "You're right, of course. I need to speak to Huginn about something important. Is he around?"

"Physically, yes. Spiritually? Who knows. He was here just a little while ago, but he must've snuck off when I wasn't looking. He's probably not far. His brother came into port last night and you know how those two are when they're together."

Logan visibly perked up at her words. "Carson's ship is in port? That's Fantastic! That's just what I was looking for! Where is it?"

The woman, Celeste, pointed down the boardwalk.

"On the far end up of the port. It was one of the last ships to come in. If it's Carson who you fancy speaking to about this 'important' matter, then you've come just in time. He and his crew are leaving soon. You should hurry if you..."

Celeste trailed off when she finally noticed Elsa standing behind Logan. The blonde did her best not to be intrusive as she watched in silence while Logan interacted with this new stranger. Celeste blinked in confusion once she realized that Elsa wasn't just a nosy patron standing ostentatiously to the side, listening in on a private conversation, or a thief looking to pocket a couple ornate silver spoons. She gave the queen her own curious once-over, her head dipping to the side as her brown eyes trailed over her.

"Oh, hello there."

"Hello," Elsa gave a sheepish wave, finally being acknowledged.

"Logan," she spoke his name slowly, her eyes flickering back with a twinkle of glee. "Who's your friend?"

In lieu of a reply, the ex-bandit stepped aside and gestured for Elsa to come closer. He gave her a reassuring smile, nodding towards Celeste. Elsa almost rolled her eyes. She didn't need to be coddled like a spooked animal. She wasn't the most sociable ruler who ever lived, but she still had basic people skills. The queen inched her way forward until she was standing in front of the other woman. Out of habit, she gave  
Celeste a polite nod of her head as her hands came together to fold neatly in front of her. Celeste's greeting wasn't quite as formal, but it was no less cordial with the bright smile she gave Elsa. She held out her hand for her to shake.

"Hi, I'm Celeste," she said before tipping her head towards Logan. "An old friend of this naughty boy right here. Pleased to meet you."

"I'm Elsa," Elsa offered back, gripping Celeste's hand and giving it a small shake. "Likewise."

"That's a pretty name," she smiled. She looked up at Logan with a quirk of her eyebrow. "A pretty name for a pretty girl."

"Thank you?"

Unease crept up Elsa's spine at the look Celeste was giving Logan. A silent conversation seemed to pass between the two as Logan rolled his eyes.

"Is she...?" Celeste began.

"A job, Celeste. I'm on escort duty."

She nodded. "Business then. Not pleasure. Never shall the two cross," she turned towards Elsa with a teasing smile. "That's one of his rules. Did he tell you about his rules? Such a stickler, he is."

"Yes, but he left that one out."

Celeste let out a peal of bubbly laughter, unabashed of the passing market-goers turning to stare at her. "Of course he would! Come on then, you two. I'll take you to Carson."

The woman waved at them to follow as she propped up a "closed" sign on her tent. Despite her frame, she moved through the crowd like she wasn't seven months pregnant with Logan right on her heels. Elsa tried her best to keep up, but she was unused to moving through large crowds of people. In Arendelle, people usually gave her a wide berth whenever she was out in public. Now she was practically drowning in a sea of limbs and apathetic toe-stompers as she lagged further behind Logan and Celeste.

It took no time at all for her to lose sight of the two. Weselton's port district was massive. Paired with a busy day in the marketplace, it was a miracle Elsa hadn't been sidelined straight into the water. The queen stepped into the entrance of an alley to break free from the crowd, giving herself breathing room. She only ventured out again when there was a gap in the horde and she was able to move freely without being trampled on. She did her best to navigate the boardwalk on her own, but she could barely see over the top of people's heads even when she stood on her toes.

She only made it about halfway to the docks before she caught sight of something dreadful just up ahead, standing right next to the entrance of the docks.

"You there!" a familiar, nasally voice sounded out. The queen cringed and halted mid-step. She felt the person behind her bump into her back and heard their indignant protest as they moved around her, but she barely took notice.

"Be certain that those crates are bound tight when you secure them on your ship. If you lose any of that cargo, you'll have to replace it!"

The Duke of Weselton eyed the sailor standing in front of him, unsympathetic of the large crate perched on the sailor's back as he gave him a scrutinizing look behind his eyeglasses. Criticisms flowed from his mouth like fish in a river, stopping any crew member within shouting distance to throw in his opinion on how the sailors should handle their cargo and how much supplies they were allowed to leech from Weselton's resources. He stood prime and proper in his dark blue military jacket with the orange accents, the red sash across the chest and the gold epaulets.

Once he dismissed the sailor with an air of disdain, as if the very smell of working class made his stomach upset, he turned his eyes back to the people around him. He had two guards standing behind him, with the long red overcoats that symbolized their place in the Weselton guard (if they were the same two that the Duke brought to Arendelle, Elsa purposely didn't take notice). The Duke searched for another violation to point out. Elsa quickly ducked behind a stack of ale barrels when he turned her way. His gaze swept past her hiding place and landed on a man carrying a bundle of colorful scarves in his arms.

"Careful with those!" the Duke snapped. "That's genuine Weselton silk you're carrying there - not a sack of Irish potatoes! Do you want our tailors to lose their business because of poor delivery conditions? I shouldn't think so! Our silk scarves and petticoats make up a substantial amount of our exported goods. If this kingdom crashes into the ground and families are sent out on the street to die of starvation, it'll be on your shoulders, sailor!"

What a drama queen, Elsa rolled her eyes. Just the same as he was in Arendelle. Who did he think he was fooling? Everyone within reasonable trading distance knew that Weselton's clothing products were mostly sold secondhand with increased taxing.

She was still crouched behind her barrels watching the Duke belittle his own people when a pair of boots appeared next to her, nearly causing the queen to jump out of her skin.

"What the hell are you doing now?"

Realizing that it was only Logan, she shot him a glare as she held a hand over her startled heart. "_Don't_ do that. You're going to give me a heart attack!"

"And you're going to give me an aneurysm if you keep doing weird stuff every time I turn away for more than thirty seconds. What are you doing?"

"Could you please duck down a little or stop looking down at me? There's no point in trying to hide if you're just going to stand there like a talking post giving me away."

"Oh, so this is you trying to be inconspicuous?" he asked, gesturing to her crouching behind the stack of barrels. "Honestly I think this is only making people notice you more. These barrels aren't exactly strategically placed for stealth. You're still pretty much right in the middle of the boardwalk."

"I'm not hiding from those people," she waved her hand at the passing market-goers shooting her odd looks. "I'm just hiding from one, and he can't see me if I'm behind these barrels." She barely resisted the urge to add a childish "duh".

Logan let out a sigh as his eyes trailed upwards for a second before he moved to join her behind the barrels, crouching down next to her and ignoring the looks it got him. "Okay, scooch over then. Who are we hiding from?"

Elsa pointed at the Duke. "Him. That's the Duke of Weselton."

Logan followed her finger and saw the Duke. He was an extremely short, skinny man with white hair and a curly mustache perched beneath a big, shapely nose that took up a good portion of his face. He was a funny looking little man with big ears that stuck out and eyeglasses that made his eyes look bulbous and insect-like, like a goofy caricature one would draw of their boss as retaliation after they had just been chewed out. Logan watched as the Duke jumped up and down, flailing his arms like a monkey throwing a fit as he yelled at another sailor who ventured too close.

"Oh, so that's your ex-boyfriend."

"Shut up," Elsa slapped him on the arm.

"Wow, no wonder you don't want him to see you like this. That is one impressive piece of man candy- _ow!_"

She slapped him again, harder this time. "Knock it off! You're going to make me freeze the dock! What are we going to do, Logan? He's standing _right there_. There's no way I can get past without him noticing me."

Logan turned back to the Duke, eyeing the little man with the big mouth and loud opinions. Elsa could practically see the gears churning inside his head as he worked out a plan. A few seconds later, the side of his mouth quirked up in a smirk that looked positively devious and Elsa gave him a wary look.

"Alright, wait here. I got this."

Before she could respond, Logan stepped out from behind the barrels and sauntered towards the Duke's perch. As he approached, he snatched a nice chair sitting outside a woodworking tent and held it in front of him at an odd angle, with one back leg in one hand and the crest rail in the other. He walked with a flawless air of nonchalance, pretending to be a worker minding his own business as he carried the chair towards the entrance of the docks. He moved to pass by the Duke and his men, but the smaller man honed in on Logan like a spider on a fly.

"You! Young man," he pointed a gloved finger in Logan's direction. He stopped and looked at the duke. "You are not supposed to carry chairs like that! That's Ebony for God's sake, you clueless boy! Do you have any idea how expensive that wood is?"

Logan looked down at the chair in his hands. "Oh, my bad."

The duke shook his head, holding up a hand. "Don't apologize. Just hold it properly before you break it."

"What, like this?" he flipped the chair over so the crest faced right instead of left and he held it awkwardly by the stretchers.

The duke's face pinched up. "No, that's wrong. Turn it that way and hold it by the back."

Logan turned it in the opposite direction so the cushion faced him. "Like this?"

"No, I said turn it that way."

He turned the chair back the way he had it with the backrest still facing out. "Like this?

"No, no, that's worse! You'll tear the upholstery! It needs to be right-side up!"

"Like this?"

"No! The other way!"

"Oh, you mean like _this_."

The duke looked ready to murder Logan as he turned the chair completely upside down. Elsa could practically see his curly mustache bristle in anger from where she was still crouched behind the barrels. Logan gave the Duke a bright smile, still maintaining his aura of cluelessness even as the short official glared at him red in the face.

"Oh yeah, this is _much_ easier to carry now. Thanks for the help, man!"

"It's upside down! You could not get any more wrong than that! You have to carry it properly or you'll risk damaging it!"

Logan blinked down at the chair again, looking it over before shrugging his shoulders. "Eh, this way's easier."

"But it's wrong!"

"Let's agree to disagree."

The Duke cried out in frustration and threw his hands up in the air. "Oh for God's sake! Who's in charge of you? Perhaps they'll be able to help you with this ridiculous task. Who is it that you work for?"

"You want to talk to my boss? Right now?"

"Yes, right now, you bumbling baboon! Who is he?"

"Oh sure, you can talk to him. I work for Mr. Clothsoff. First name Oliver. He runs that little dress stand right there," Logan pointed towards a boutique tent with an old woman manning it.

"Well, I shall have a word with this, Oliver Clothsoff. His choice in employment is simply deplorable."

The Duke adjusted his eyeglasses and straightened his jacket with a "humph" and his nose in the air before turning on his heel with a sharp click and marching over to the tent. He walked up to the woman as she measured a strip of fabric with the seamstress tape that hung around her neck. He cleared his throat loud and obnoxious once he reached her. The woman looked over the top of her own eyeglasses, eyeing the Duke carefully.

"May I help you, sir?" the seamstress asked in a gentle, grandmotherly voice.

"I certainly hope so, madame. I'm looking for a mister Clothsoff. I demand to speak to him immediately about his errand boy and the way he handles Weselton's cargo," he pointed at Logan. "The sheer incompetence of that young man is staggering."

The seamstress looked in between the Duke and Logan, who was whistling cheerfully from where he was now sitting in the chair with one leg crossed over the other, looking everywhere but at the seamstress and the Duke.

"I'm sorry. A mister who?"

"Mister Clothsoff."

"I'm sorry, there's nobody here by that name, sir."

"Oh don't play coy, madame. I must speak with Oliver Clothsoff."

The seamstress frowned at the Duke, blinking owlishly at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"I want Oliver Clothsoff, right now!" he snapped, pointing at the spot in front of him in demand.

The seamstress' eyes widened and she let out a gasp, flabbergasted at the Duke's audacity. She clutched her arms tightly to her chest, covering herself as much as she could as she glared daggers. "Why, you little pervert!"

The anger slipped from the Duke's face and he frowned in confusion just as the seamstress raised a hand and slapped him across the face, the sound of skin hitting skin ringing out loudly.

In the background Logan laughed as the Duke was sent backwards into the arms of his men. Elsa let out a gasp and she covered her hand with her mouth, holding back her own laughter. The two guards looked down at the man in their arms and the senseless look on his face, with his eyes rolling in their sockets and his toupee askew. They looked back up at the old woman with scowls on their faces. Under the heat of their gazes, the frail-looking dame only squared her shoulders and brushed the ruffled neckline of her dress with a satisfied nod of her head.

"I don't give an ass' hoof what a man's title is. I will not sit by and endure such harassment on my person! I may be old, but I'm still a lady. You best tell that little man to mind his manners before I mind them for him."

When the Duke had gathered enough of his bearings to stand on his own two feet, he stumbled back to where Logan still sat in his chair. Logan watched him approach with a near predatory smirk on his face as the Duke let out a groan, raising a hand to touch the burning hand print that decorated his right cheek.

"I do believe mister Clothsoff isn't in at the moment," the Duke slurred, his voice reaching an even higher octave than before.

Logan forged ignorance again, his eyes widening. "Oh I'm sorry. Did I say Oliver Clothsoff? I meant Mr. Lacio. Yeah, good ol' Phil. You should be able to find him in that colorful tavern with the scarcely clad gentleman painted on the sign. You'll have to call out to him real loud, though. It's pretty noisy in there and he's a little hard of hearing. Poor guy."

There was no pompous display of superiority this time in the Duke's stance. He only turned and headed in the direction of the tavern while his guards followed behind him, giving each other uncertain looks as the Duke threw open the swinging doors of the tavern with a flourish and stepped inside. The doors swung back and forth behind him, allowing anyone in the vicinity of the tavern to hear when the Duke called out.

"Attention gentlemen! I'm looking for a Mister Lacio! I demand Phil Lacio!"

"Well you're definitely in the right place for it, honey!" one of the patrons called back.

Logan let out another short laugh as the tavern doors finally fell back into place, cutting off the noises within. With a satisfied smirk, he stood from his chair and motioned for Elsa to come out.

"I think that's the last we'll be seeing of him," he said smugly as he put the chair back where he found it. "I'm just going to assume that he deserved that."

Elsa gave him a bittersweet smile, not entirely impressed of his crude methods of diversion, but flattered that he would publicly humiliate a man he never met just because she didn't like them, and also trusted that she had a good reason and not asking what it was. "Yes, he did. That much and more."

"Well he's welcome to come back for seconds. I've got a million of those gag names."

"The first one was clever, I'll give you that, but I have no idea what the second one means. Knowing you, it's something gross and I don't want to know."

"Won't argue with you there," he swung his arm over her head as she moved to walk next to him. He placed a guiding hand on the small of her back as he led them down to the docks. "Come on. That's enough fooling around."

"Who is Celeste and Huginn?" Elsa finally asked.

"Huginn is Celeste's husband. He used be a sailor with his twin brother, Muninn, but when he met Celeste and got married, he became a merchant. He's more of mutual friend I met through Celeste. I play friendly with him because of the connections he gives me. The ship Muninn works on goes all over the place and it comes in handy when I need to travel. They just came in from Germany. If we're lucky, their next docking point will be in a kingdom close to Arendelle. 'Close enough' will have to do since apparently Arendelle and Weselton can't play nice together anymore. The ship captain, Carson, is a bit of a card, though."

"How so?"

Logan mulled over the question for a bit as he guided her through the busy docks, sidestepping cargo crates and passing sailors. "It's a bit difficult to explain for you've never met him before. But you'll see soon enough."

"What about Celeste? How do you know her?"

"Like she said, we're old friends. I knew her from before I met Barley."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. I left home at sixteen and didn't meet Barley until I was nineteen. That's about a three year time gap. What did you think I did in that time?"

"I don't know, and I don't think I want to."

He looked at her, frowning. "Why does everyone say that?"

"Beats me," she replied with obvious sarcasm. "I mean, it's not like you've ever done anything morally ambiguous or questionable in your life. Why would someone possibly think that? You're such a friendly, upstanding member of the community."

"Oh ha, ha, I see you finally grew a sense of humor," he rolled his eyes. "_Anyways_, it's good that we're here. This is basically the halfway point of our little field trip - give or take a couple hundred miles. As long as we're still ahead of Dag, it should be smooth sailing from here. No pun intended."

Elsa didn't reply as she let Logan guide her through the docks, her feet getting heavier with each step she took. The close call with the Duke still buzzed in her head, but it was almost overshadowed by new dread whenever they walked past a ship. The sails towered over them, making Elsa feel small and insignificant. The smell of the ocean had never felt more overwhelming and she could almost taste the salt in the air. It clung to her tongue, making it feel dry. The mere thought of boarding one of these ships made the queen sick to her stomach.

"Hey," Logan's voice pulled her from her toxic thoughts. She looked at him and saw genuine concern in his expression. He must have seen the color drain out of her face when she looked down at the water under the docks. "Don't worry about it, okay? You've taken on bigger and meaner things than this before, you _know_ that. A little boat ride isn't something you can't handle."

Elsa only nodded, telling herself she would _not_ look down at that water again.

'_I really hope you're right._'

* * *

**AN: The scene with the duke was kind of silly and cartoonish, but the character itself is pretty much the same way in the movie so I wasn't really sure if I could accurately approach that scene any other way.**

**I love it when animated movies use symbolism in clothing to show internal changes in characters. Like Elsa and her coronation dress in Frozen. It makes her look very adult and regal, but the fabric is stiff with dark coloring and really gives off that isolated vibe of her character with how it covers pretty much every inch of skin on her body along with her hair being styled in a tight, constricting bun. And then during "Let It Go", it's replaced with a bright blue, flowing gown, reflecting the discard of past expectations and pressures.**

**Logan's new outfit has more color to it. His old outfit (for those who remember all the way back in chapter three) was made up of mostly black and grey with his hair unkempt. He's feeling healthier now so I showed that in his appearance. His new clothing has more coloring to it, his hair is more swept back and he doesn't look quite as disheveled. It reflects his returned health and it will also reflect the changes in his character as the story progresses.**

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	18. Colorful Characters

**AN: Thanks for all the support and lovely reviews. I'm glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter! ****Another song will be featured in this chapter. Hope you guys will like it. I like the thought of Logan being an average singer - or at least not being super talented at it. It's a nice contrast to the other Disney "princes" who all have Broadway worthy singing voices.**

**I also snuck in another Norse mythology reference in this one. Huginn and Muninn are the names of Odin's pet ravens, thought and memory. Ravens often symbolize omens. Kind of lame and not nearly as good as the Idun apple reference from the ambush chapters, but whatever. I was going to do this whole thought and memory thing to make better use of the reference, but I ended up scrapping it because of length. Oh well, maybe next time.**

**Featured song: "Clarity" by Lifehouse**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or its characters.**

* * *

Elsa knew she looked out of place on the docks. She stood surrounded by big sailors and dock workers with bulging muscles, thick body hair and raunchy tattoos. They were hard men, accustomed to hard labor under hard conditions, and they towered over her. She stuck out like a sore thumb. Even Celeste, a dainty, seven-month-pregnant woman wearing a short sleeved dress in winter, blended in better than her.

It had to be in the way Celeste held herself. The other woman walked with confidence along the docks like she had every right to be there, even though it wasn't wholly advisable that she was, given her condition. Elsa did her best to imitate her. It wasn't as if she was unable to blend, per se, but her inexperience with people in general must have shone like a beacon. It was the lack of productivity that probably gave her away. Logan didn't need her help negotiating their transportation - heaven knows that man could charm anyone into giving him anything if the mood suited - and it left her standing awkwardly to the side, twiddling her thumbs.

It also didn't make it better that she was encountering a slew of strangers well-acquainted with Logan, leaving the queen out of the loop entirely. She chose not to let this show, however. Because really, what choice did she have? Inwardly she despaired, but outwardly old habits kicked in and she was back to pretending that she knew what was going on like the good little queen that she was, trying to save face.

Among the sailors twice her size, Elsa held her head high with her hands held neatly in front of her. Her posture was flawless and her face was shrouded in ambiguity. She did her best through her neutral expression alone to convince the people around her that she, clearly an outsider, was trespassing in their world for a legitimate reason that was hers and hers alone - not just someone riding on the dubious coattails of another because she knew next to nothing about boats.

She felt regal again, standing there proud, suspended high above her doubt and anxiety. The very picture of sophisticated grace-

"Think fast, Sugar!"

She turned her head and received a face full of burlap. She let out a surprised "_Oof!_" as her arms came up to grip the heavy bundle hitting her out of nowhere and her bottom came in swift contact with the dock.

Without much of a warning, Logan had thrown their supply pack at her. He had purposely done it too early, his rare bout of playfulness still very much present. The queen let out a huff, blowing a loose strand of blonde hair out of her face and sending him a glare. No apology came. He laughed at her instead. It was a rich sound that rang pleasantly with his smooth baritone, carefree and genuine. It was almost contagious. Elsa fought to keep her scowl on her face, even as she sat on the filthy dock with a heavy pack in her lap. Pangs ran up her tailbone from her fall and her legs sprawled out in front of her, undignified, and she couldn't bring herself to care.

Maybe there was another reason why Elsa hadn't yet seriously considered telling Logan that she was really the queen of Arendelle. Other than the obvious. She liked the way he treated her. He was blunt and rude and completely unapologetic about it, but he treated everyone like that. He treated her like a normal human being. And that might not seem like much, especially in the face of being laughed at, but it was certainly more than what Elsa had ever experienced before with someone other than Anna. To have someone laugh at your own expense and not be bothered by it all. A smirk of a good sport and a silent promise of '_I'll get you back for that_'. Joking around without the fear of being arrested because you literally knocked a reigning monarch on her royal ass.

Logan wouldn't treat her like that if he knew about the queen thing. He wouldn't even like her.

"Hey, knock that off, you," Celeste barked, coming to Elsa's rescue. "Is that really anyway to treat a lady? Save the roughhousing for the twins. They're a much better match for you anyways."

"You bet we are!"

A large shape appeared behind Logan, catching him off guard as two heavy arms wrapped around the smirking ex-bandit and tightening in a bear hug before he was hoisted off the ground like he weighed nothing at all. Elsa's eyes widened and Celeste let out a laugh and Logan began to struggle against the man holding him.

"Squeeze him harder, Muninn!" Celeste called. "He's filled with too much hot air!"

The man turned their way, smiling. "Sure! Watch, I'll squeeze him like pimple."

The arms around Logan pulled tighter and Elsa heard the air leave his lungs with a winded huff. Celeste laughed harder and the queen couldn't help but giggle at the spectacle Logan and the large sailor were making. She brought up her hand and hid her giggles behind her hand. Her friend's squirming and pained expression was more amusing than alarming. He looked more like an affronted cat, unimpressed with the sailor's attempt at hugging him. He refused to kick his legs, though. He had more dignity than that.

"If he turns blue, that's how you know you did it right," came another voice as another large man came up behind the first, putting a hand on the shoulder of the other man that was near identical to himself.

"Oh God," Logan wheezed. "Put me down!"

He wiggled his arm free and used it to elbow the sailor, Muninn, in the solar plexus. Not hard enough to do damage, but hard enough to ensure his immediate release. Muninn let out a breathless laugh as he clutched his chest.

"Nice one, shaggy dog. That almost hurt!"

Logan only rolled his eyes as he smoothed out his wrinkled shirt and brushed back the loose strands of dark hair that fell in his face.

"Could you please show a little decorum for once? At least while you're in proper company?"

Logan gestured towards Elsa and Celeste. The two brothers looked, eyes trailing over the blonde in curious interest. They looked back at Logan for a moment before looking at each other, smirks slowly spreading across their faces as one of the brothers poked the other in the side with his elbow.

Huginn, as Logan introduced him, was built heavily through the shoulders with a bit of a pot belly from domesticated life. He had long, dark auburn hair tied back in a ponytail at the base of his thick neck and a bushy beard that covered most of his face. Muninn, interlocked with his twin by their arms along their shoulders, was just as large as his brother but with a flat stomach, able to stay in shape through his work. His skin was also darker on the arms where his shirt didn't cover them. No doubt a sea tan, but slivers of paler skin beneath the sleeves and the collar peeked through when jostled by enthusiastic gesturing when he spoke and shook with full bodied laughter. He was clean shaven with closely cropped hair the same shade as his brother's tucked underneath a flat cap. Elsa could see more of his features with the lack of hair. A strong chin, broad nose and wide forehead with a set of dark blue eyes, and she was easily able to picture the same for his brother. She placed the two of them in their late thirties. Not rambunctious youths, but not crippling old men either.

"Well now," Huginn smiled, "Ms. Elsa, how do you do?"

He held out a hand for the queen to shake and she almost couldn't believe how small her own hand looked wrapped in his.

"I've been better, thank you."

He gave a dazzling smile at her response, squeezing her hand just a tad bit tighter. "Haven't we all? It's a pleasure to meet you. I see you have already met my wife. I hope she's been a doll."

Celeste came to stand next to her husband, latching herself to his side when he raised an arm in invitation and lowered it again to wrap around her back.

"Of course," she said. "Any friend of Logan's is a friend of ours."

"Bringing girls home with him now, is he?"

"Tell me somethin', Ms. Elsa," Muninn said, coming to stand next to his brother and holding out his hand for her to shake next. "What's a lovely, respectable woman like yourself doing with a dog like Logan?"

"I was wondering that myself, brother. Seems a bit odd, don't you think? You look like a nice girl, Ms. Elsa. He hasn't gotten you in trouble, has he?" Huginn asked, sending a pointed look over at Logan. "Because you just say the word I'll make sure his hands never wander up another girl's dress again. He'll be hitched to you for life. Heaven knows we've seen this day a long time coming."

A small blush spread across Elsa's cheeks and she laughed when Huginn wiggled his bushy eyebrows at her. Logan looked beyond affronted at the remark.

"Oh come on, that was a little uncalled for. Of course I haven't- it's not like that. She's a job. A client."

"As if that would stop you. A regular wolf in sheep's wool you are, Massett!"

Muninn reached out and gripped Elsa's shoulders, his eyes widen in mock panic. "Quick! Blink twice if he's secretly holding you against your will!"

They erupted with laughter, the two brothers doubled over and hanging on each other for support as they practically howled their amusement. Celeste laughed freely as well and Elsa couldn't help smiling. It was fun to see Logan be the goaded for once. His brow knotted tight and he had a sour frown on his face as he crossed his arms and shook his head.

"Okay, if you're done flattering me, I think I have a way you two can be useful other than swabbing the first mate's poop deck and reproducing excessively. I need to talk to Carson about hitching a ride with your crew when you set out. We're bound for Arendelle and we can't go the long way."

"Well sure," Muninn said, clapping a hand on Logan's shoulder and squeezing it. "You can talk to Carson, but you know how he is. It'll depend on what you offer as payment."

"That's fine. Just take me to him," he turned towards Elsa. "Stay here with Celeste. I'll only be a minute and then we'll be out of here."

Before she could reply, Logan was off again with the two brothers, still smirking and winking at each other as they jostled the ex-bandit playfully. Elsa watched them get swallowed up by the steady flow of traffic moving through the docks. When they were completely gone from sight, she turned back to Celeste, holding back a sigh.

"So, where are you guys headed?" the pregnant woman asked, not at all put off by being left behind. They stood side by side watching the crowd.

"Logan's taking me back to my home, the Kingdom of Arendelle."

Celeste's face lit up. "You're from Arendelle? So am I!"

"O-oh really?" Dread gripped the queen's heart for a moment, squeezing it tight at the possibility that she might be recognized.

"Yes, but I haven't been back since I was about knee-high. My parents migrated north to be with more family. Such a small world we live in, though, yeah? I've always wanted to go back there, but it never seemed to be in the cards. Maybe someday, though," Celeste sighed, running her hands lovingly over her stomach. "I heard it's a great place to raise children. All sunny and warm in the Spring and Summer."

'_Sure, if you can handle living under a ruler with magical, trigger-sensitive ice powers and soul-consuming anxiety_,' Elsa thought before moving to change the subject.

"How do you know Logan?"

"We go way back."

"That's what Logan said."

"Yep, we were just teenagers when we first met. There used to be a whole bunch of us back then."

"Us?"

"Kids. Teenagers. Wayward youths. We lived in the slums of any kingdom that would have us - until they kicked us out for cluttering up their streets, at least. Logan was sort of our misfit leader. Taught us how to read and pick pockets. Most of us were from poor families, or had been on our own from the very start, so you know how it goes. Reading's for the privileged. Logan seemed like one those - one of those really smart guys - idea guys. You know, the ones that everybody listens to and read about in books because they're so smart. What do you call them? They walk around just thinking about life and what's the point of it and why we're all here?"

"Philosophers?"

"Yeah, that's it, Philosophers! He seemed like one of those because of all the stuff he knew."

"Where were your parents?"

"They kicked me out when I was fifteen. I was rebellious and thirsty for life, they were pious, simple folk content with just farming and going to church - it didn't mix well. You know, that old sob story."

"I'm sorry," Elsa apologized, not exactly sure what for. "Logan told me about his past as a bandit, but he never mentioned being with anybody before that. I guess I just assumed he was on his own."

"I suppose for the most part he was. He couldn't have been with us more than a year or so before he got recruited by Barley. That's, what, two years between meeting me and him leaving home? God knows what he got up to during that time. All that man needs is the weapon of opportunity and he gets into all sorts of trouble."

"That'll certainly explain why he's so...him."

Celeste gave her a thoughtful look from the corner of her eye, pursing her lips in an utterly endearing way as she regarded Elsa closely.

"Did you know that he delivered my first baby?" she suddenly said.

Elsa looked back at Celeste with wide eyes, unsure she heard correctly.

"I'm sorry, he did _what?_"

"Mmhm," Celeste nodded, smiling. "It was about five years ago, before we moved to Weselton, and my little Lukas still had a few more weeks to go. I really should have anticipated the premature labor. Boys are so impatient, no matter what age they are. Huginn and I lived in this shabby little cabin in the middle of nowhere and Logan was passing through. It was the dead of winter and we got snowbound, me and Logan, and I went into labor. Everything just happened so fast and there wasn't a doctor for miles. I couldn't have been in labor for more than an hour before that kid practically crawled out. So Logan had to go down by my...you know, while I...you know, and in like two minutes, he was handing me this squirming bundle."

"How on earth did Logan deliver a baby?" She stared at the woman in disbelief. Not in mistrust for what she was saying, just more incomprehension than anything.

Celeste laughed. "He'll claim that he's just really good at learning on the job, but I suspect that he might actually have some experience. I think his mother might have been a midwife or a handmaid to one and he might've picked up a thing or two from her. He never told me too much about her, but he seemed to know more than what you would expect any man who isn't a doctor to know. Men are usually so squeamish around such talk. After the baby was born, he took care of both of us, making sure my son was healthy and that I didn't get milk fever. Huginn was barely around, still off sailing with his brother at the time, and Logan had become my sole confidant throughout pretty much my whole pregnancy."

Elsa closed her mouth, realizing that she had it hanging open as she thought over what Celeste just told her.

An obscure memory came to mind, then, pulling her back nearly a week earlier during the handful of times that she and Logan had camped out in an inn rather than outside in the forest. It had been the smallest of things, but she registered it all the same. It was morning and they were getting ready to leave. Elsa had left to change in the bathroom while Logan stayed behind in the room. She hadn't slept very well the night before, despite having the rare luxury of a nice bed, so she had tossed and turned for hours, leaving the sheets and blanket in a chaotic heap. She didn't think to do anything about them, knowing a maid would strip the linens anyways once they left, but when she returned she found the bed immaculately made, better than it had been when they had first checked in, even - with the ends tucked in neat and even like one would see in a medical ward, pristine and sterile. Nurse made. Hospital corners.

Logan had already gone downstairs to the lobby by then, but it could only have been him who made it. It had been such a small, off-handed observation at the time, only made note of because it seemed out of character for Logan to be so keen.

Another mystery solved, she supposed.

"Wow," she breathed.

"Yeah," Celeste sighed in agreement. "I wanted to name the baby after Logan, but that made him too uncomfortable. So he helped me come up with the name Lukas instead."

"That was the last thing- I think I was less surprised when I discovered he used to be a bandit. That was an amazing story. Thank you for telling me, Celeste."

She clucked her tongue sympathetically, "Well, Logan mentioned that you were a little cross with him over something stupid he said, which comes as no surprise, he can be such an ass sometimes. But I wouldn't be a very good friend if I didn't at least try to defend him. I don't know what he said to you, but I'm sure he didn't mean it. Or maybe he did, because who really knows with him? It can't be so bad if you're still here with him, though."

"It wasn't really what he said. It's how he acts. He doesn't really take care of himself, does he?"

Celeste exhaled through her nose. "I was hoping he would have fixed that. He can be so careless with himself, I worry about him constantly. I'm glad you two came by today. I haven't seen him in so long, I was beginning to worry that I never would again. When you live like he does, anything can happen, and he has a nasty habit of being a little overprotective. He won't do much for himself, but he'd back flip to the moon and back for someone he cares about. He's just...he's just..."

"Loyal to a fault?" Elsa finished, repeating Dag's words from the orchard.

"Extremely."

They continued to talk after that, but it was more casual - what was the weather like in Weselton, how old were Celeste's kids, did Elsa have any children, "do you know how to make a fishtail braid, my daughter's asking me how and I have no idea", how about bake a cherry pie? Typical conversation that Elsa found comfortable engaging in. It was strange going from just being around Logan to being around so many people. She wanted to ask why Logan never mentioned any of them before, even during those rare moments where they shared small things about their lives, snippets and funny stories, like the time Anna gave Kristoff and Sven royal "makeovers" to make them more presentable for the Arendelle Winter Ball. Or when Olaf discovered what snow cones were made of.

These were people who were obviously part of Logan's life, and yet Elsa was only now just hearing about them. Why was that? Why wasn't Logan here with them, among friends, instead of somewhere far off by himself, doing questionable jobs for people who were too helpless to help themselves? This seemed like the place to be right here, with Celeste and her group. She'll have to ask him later.

He came back a few minutes later and gestured for Elsa to follow. They moved through the docks until they came in view of the twin brothers standing with another, much smaller man, talking with his back turned towards her and Logan.

"Try not to stare," the ex-bandit told her, cryptic.

The man in question didn't stand out from a distance, not particularly. Except for maybe his size, being smaller than the sea of hulking sailors around them - but then again, so was Logan. From behind, Elsa wouldn't have looked twice at him, nor think him strange in any way, least of all in the way Logan insinuated. Nothing that would make her _stare_. However, the closer they came, the more she started to notice that something was...off.

Again, there wasn't anything blatantly odd, but there was definitely something. Something that she felt should've been obvious, but at the same time not. She couldn't put her finger on it until the man turned.

She stopped in her tracks, blinking.

That...wait, that - _he_...

It was a woman.

Yes. That was definitely a woman. A woman wearing men's clothing.

She stood fully facing Elsa and the queen could see the woman underneath the bulky, grey coat and green tunic. She had a strong, square face and broad shoulders, more handsome than pretty, but still obviously female underneath the false beard and heavy clothing that smothered any feminine physique she might have had. Frizzy blonde hair poked out from underneath her captain's hat and she had warm caramel skin made rich by the sun. Elsa wasn't even remotely close to being well traveled so there was little hope of guessing where the woman hailed from by appearance alone.

"Ello there, is this the other one then?" the woman captain said with a false baritone, sizing Elsa up as they approached.

Despite her skin suggesting a more tropical background than their pasty neck of the woods, she spoke with a thick, cockney accent. It had the queen wondering if it was authentic. The woman's disguise as a whole wasn't very convincing at second glance. Her false beard wasn't even the same shade of blonde as her hair and eyebrows. The facade seemed to hinge solely on other people being too unobservant enough to look closer.

Logan nodded. "Yes, Carson. This is Elsa. We need passage to Arendelle."

"We won't be stoppin' in Arendelle this time 'round, but we'll be dockin' close. Four days off by horse, I figure, if the weather holds. But I ain't so sure I'd have you stow away on me beaut, though. That's two more souls takin' up air and space."

"It can't be more than a day."

"Aye, but it still stands. Space and resources are scarce on this vessel. I can't just let anyone hitch their wagon to my giddy-up, it wouldn't serve. At least, not without proper compensation. What would ya' offer up in exchange for this desperately sought after passage, Logan?" she/he looked him up and down, eyeing the one supply pack in their possession. "Ya don't look like ya have much on ya right now."

"That's because we don't. Maybe a small sack of gold coins at the most."

Carson rubbed her/his chin in thought, not looking convinced with Logan's meager offer.

"Could we pay you with what we have now and give the rest of it to you later? Like an I owe you?" Elsa offered. She could give Carson more than enough in way of payment if she were back in Arendelle. If the captain would allow the queen to get back to her kingdom, then they could work out something then.

"No go," she/he shook her head. "It's now or never with me, Poppet. Too many fools have tried to skimp me in the past, I don't do anythin' on just the good word of another. That's sensible business."

"You got a point there," Logan admitted. "How about I give you what we have in terms of coin currency and then you can have your pick of how to make the rest of it square. You can have whatever you want."

A generous offer for just a short boat ride, Elsa thought, but then maybe she was missing something here. It wasn't like she and Logan were planning an extended stay that would require the crew to share their food rations and life supporting supplies. The woman captain seemed to be aiming for something worth more than what she would be giving up, and Elsa couldn't help but feel that they were being cheated somehow. Then again, beggars can't be choosers and they had very little alternative options to work with, which was probably why Logan didn't say as much to the captain.

He was going to let her have anything, apparently, and to Elsa's surprise, the captain began to size her up, blatantly fixing her with an appraising look as if the queen was something for sale.

"Anything you want from _me_," Logan clarified, stepping in front of Elsa to block the captain's view.

Carson looked put out, but didn't argue, or barter, further. The captain pursed her/his lips in thought again before turning away.

"Give me a second to mull it over," Carson said over her/his shoulder as she/he walked off to talk to a nearby sailor.

"Logan, is that a woman?" Elsa finally asked, pulling on his sleeve and keeping her voice low even as Carson stepped out of earshot.

"Yep," he replied. "Thank God you noticed, otherwise I would seriously have to start doubting your observational skills. I told you he was a bit of a card."

"I thought you meant he- she- whichever! - was just eccentric, or really awkward and difficult. I didn't think 'he' would actually be a 'she' masquerading as a man."

"It's only crossdressing. As far as I can tell, other than the fake beard and the pistol strapped to her thigh that's definitely compensating for something, Carson is all woman."

"Then why is she dressed like a man?"

"Carson likes being a woman, but she likes her ship more. Her ship used to belong to her father. When he died, he passed it on to her and she took over as captain. As you can imagine, people took issue with it. On more than one occasion kingdoms have tried to take her ship away from her. Carson did her best to play with the big boys, to prove to them that she's just as tough, but that sort of thing is always an uphill struggle, isn't it? So, instead of busting her figurative balls trying to fight an unwinnable fight, Carson took a more creative approach. She traded dresses for trousers and started going by Carson instead of Carmilla. Of course it's an obvious disguise for anyone who looks at her for more than thirty seconds, but it keeps the patriarch at bay."

"That sounds like something out of a fairy tale."

"Yeah, she's a regular Mary Read," Logan chuckled before dropping conversation when Carson started back.

"Alright then," Carson said, clapping her hands together. "'ere's how this is goin' ta go. Since I like your pretty faces, I'll let you two loves tag along on me babe. Just give me what you got on you, and we'll figure out a way to square the rest once we shove off."

"Fantastic," Logan replied as Carson walked off, making it difficult to tell whether he was being sarcastic or not. "Off to sea, then."

Elsa stepped back and allowed Logan the room to say goodbye to Celeste and Huginn since they wouldn't be accompanying them any further. He pulled Celeste into a tender hug and nodded his head against the crook of her neck at her demands for more frequent visitation and to take care of himself. The queen watched the exchange with a small smile, finding it touching.

A lovely mother of three, a hearty set of twin brothers and an adventurous woman captain breaking customs by masquerading as a man. An odd bunch for sure, but she supposed it wasn't any stranger than a queen, a princess, an ice harvester, a reindeer that could understand human languages and a talking snowman. It was a mismatched family unit, just like the one Elsa had back in Arendelle. She could almost imagine a picture frame around them, with string tied into a bow at the top for a birthday surprise.

Only...it wasn't. It wasn't like that at all, and Elsa knew it had something to do with Dag and Logan's time spent under his command.

Logan was comfortable around Celeste and the others, but there was still that wall of detachment built up around him. Elsa could see it as she stood back and watched him. She could see it in his eyes, a faint look of forlorn and awareness. He was pretending for old times sake. The joy in the reunion was real, but it was nostalgia, not a reconnection. It wouldn't live past today. When it was all said and done, Logan would be leaving with her and her alone. Elsa knew what it was like to be on the outside looking in, and Logan was so far out he could barely be seen. He was like an old shirt that didn't fit anymore, and maybe that was why he never mentioned any of these people before today. Because it no longer mattered. He was left chipped and splintered from his time as a bandit. They knew about his past, but to what extent she had no idea. But if she knew Logan at all, he probably kept most of it to himself.

Like Elsa after the Great Thaw, he broke free from his captors and took back control of his life. He created something from the ashes of past hurts and learned from his mistakes. But unlike Elsa, he still clung to solitude. Logan had a safe, familiar place he could have returned to after he survived Dag's tyranny. He could have made a home here with these people, and yet he had chosen to be alone instead. His door was unlocked, but it was still firmly shut.

Elsa tried to picture an alternate version of herself, then. One who stayed away. One who ran further than the North Mountain. One who Anna was never able to find, and she wondered if that version looked anything like Logan.

"Elsa."

Logan's voice snapped her out of her thoughts so fast, it almost gave her whiplash.

"Are you ready to go?" he stood next to her with Muninn nearby, waiting to escort them to Carson's ship.

She looked at him and nodded, allowing him to guide her along the docks until they came upon a ship near the end. Up until that point all the excitement had done an adequate job of distracting her, but now that Logan had actually managed to get them a ride and it finally came down to boarding the ship, Elsa felt dread once again. At the base of the ship's gangway, the queen looked up at the sails with anxious eyes, taking in what could very well be her tomb - if she really wanted to be dramatic about it.

"It's kind of small," she eyed the ship warily, seriously doubting such a vessel could hold its own against the unpredictable sea.

"Aww shucks, Sugar," Logan smirked, leaning in close with his tone teasing. "It ain't the size of the boat that matters. It's the motion of the ocean."

Munnin snorted somewhere behind them as Logan passed Elsa on the gangway, snickering to himself.

"I'm only teasing. It'll be fine," he said once he had crossed, stepping on to the deck. "Seriously though, don't let Carson hear you badmouthing her baby. She'll have us tossed overboard faster than you can say, penis envy."

"Can I just say one last time that I think this is a very bad idea?"

"Duly noted. Now come on. You'll feel better once you get it over with."

Elsa looked at the plank of wood with naked fear as she reached down with shaky hands and gathered a handful of her skirt to pull it out from under foot, taking a slow, hesitant step. It creaked under her weight, but felt solid enough to motivate her in taking another step. Logan stood on the other side watching her closely as she made her way across the gangway. Somewhere behind her, she heard someone shout, telling her to hurry up in none too kindness of words. Logan shouted something twice as rude right back. The sailor must have backed down because Elsa didn't hear another complaint as she continued across. She couldn't handle looking back to find out for sure. Her eyes were glued to her feet as if afraid the gangway would suddenly disappear if she looked away for even a second.

About halfway across, she chanced a look down at the water below, splashing against the hull and the large pillars that held up the dock. It wasn't a pristine blue like it was often portrayed in art or literature. It was a dark, murky green with slimy seaweed and pitch darkness lurking beneath. A shot of vertigo jolted up her spine as the distance between the gangway and the water appeared to double and she suddenly felt like a circus performer walking on tightrope with no net to catch her.

Sensing her panic, Logan quickly stepped back on to the gangway and reached out for Elsa's free hand, taking it in his. The warm skin of his palm through his glove chased away the chilling sensation of her ice powers building under her skin, forcing her eyes back up.

"Don't look at the water," he told her in a soft tone. "Just look at me instead. I got you."

He repeated that last part a couple more times as he pulled Elsa along the gangway, moving backwards himself until they finally reached the other side and he helped her climb down into the ship. Her boots made a hollow thunk against the deck and she released her hold on her skirt.

"Atta girl," Logan smiled, releasing her hand with a spark of pride in his eyes. "Great job, Sugar. I knew you could do it."

She waved him off, too frazzled to tell him to stop treating her like a spooked animal, even though she appreciated what he did. A moment longer of that and she would have froze the ship to the docks and they definitely wouldn't be getting out of Weselton.

"You'll see that it won't be so bad. The anticipation is always the worst part. Once the ship makes it out to sea, you'll barely notice a thing."

~O~

He was right on some level.

The anticipation had been the worse part, but it wasn't necessarily all smooth sailing from that point on. The first few hours aboard were spent inside Elsa's tiny cabin fighting off sea sickness. She managed to sleep until nightfall, but the further they went out to sea, the more the ship rocked and the queen was forced to sit up lest she were to make use of the handy sick bucket sliding along the floor next to her bunk. The smell that permeated the lower deck and the sound of groaning wood kept sleep at bay as well. She had been exhausted when they had first boarded, but now that she wasn't at risk of falling asleep where she stood, it was difficult to ignore the sounds and smells of a ship full of greasy men. It eventually had her venturing up top where it was nearly barren except for a few officers standing watch on the quarterdeck. She made a home at the front of the ship (quarterdeck, hull and mast being the full extension of her ship vocabulary).

She hadn't seen Logan since they left Weselton. He disappeared somewhere in the captain's quarters with Carson soon after they cleared the port, most likely to square the rest of what he owed her for letting him and Elsa tag along. Munnin was kind enough to show Elsa to an empty cabin where she could stay before seeing to duties elsewhere.

Even for somebody who could feel the cold, it was a nice night out for winter. Nice enough to allow Elsa to leave her bulky cloak in her cabin and go only in her blouse without it being suspicious. The moon was big that night, nearly full as it hung in the sky among the stars. It shined over the water in a stunning display and Elsa couldn't deny that it was beautiful. She always knew that it was, but her fear for the ocean kept her from wanting to experience it firsthand. She had been content with just admiring nautical artwork and reading books. A poor substitute, but she couldn't bring herself to venture any further than the view she had from the castle of Arendelle's fjord.

Boots against the deck drew her attention from the water over to somewhere beyond the quarterdeck as the sound of someone approaching reached her ears. The queen had been around him long enough to recognize them as Logan's before he even came into view. She felt like she could single out his easy gait in a large crowd through sound alone. His gun holster was missing from his shoulders and he held a half eaten green apple in his hand. His eyes scanned the deck, spotting Elsa leaning against the side of the ship with her arms crossed over the railing.

"Hey," he greeted, coming to lean next to her on the railing, settling in as close as he could without invading her space. "Still mad at me?"

Elsa promptly turned her head away from him, her nose upturned and her eyes closed.

"Very mature." He jostled her with his elbow, earning him a warning slap on his forearm.

She wasn't really, but he didn't need to know that. If she just let Logan assume she was, then he would be doing the work for her. She was too drained to even fathom the idea right now.

"Well, if you insist on being such a sour puss, then I won't show you what I picked up in the market before we left," Logan goaded her in a slight sing-song tone, patting the pocket of his trousers.

She turned her head just a tad and opened one eye to give him a side glance. Definitely _not_ curious about what Logan had stashed away on his person. She certainly didn't remember him stopping at any merchant tents and purchasing anything, so he must have been light-fingered and snatched something on the flyby when she had fallen behind in the market.

"What did you steal now?"

"Are you done being a sour puss?"

She gave him an exasperated glare.

"I'll take that as an unspoken 'yes please'."

He reached into his pocket and made a show of rooting around inside his pocket, prolonging the reveal of his (probably) stolen treasure, making Elsa roll her eyes. She was getting just a bit tired of Logan's playful side. Eventually he pulled his hand back and held up his shiny prize for her to see.

"Ta-da," he sang, holding up a silver harmonica.

The queen wanted to laugh at the look of absolute childish glee on Logan's face as he twirled the small instrument between his fingers.

"Oh my god," she groaned, holding a hand against her forehead. "Why on earth do you have that?"

"So I can play it, duh. Why else would I have it?"

"Do you even know how to play the harmonica?"

"Of course," he smiled, bringing it up to his lips.

He played a simple tune that Elsa vaguely recognized as Cherry Ripe as a warm up, becoming familiar again with its mechanics as his fingers danced across the holes. It had been a while since he had last played the harmonica. He hit a couple sour notes before eventually getting the hang of it again. It wasn't long before he was able to play a more complex melody like a very rough Auld Lang Syne.

He didn't sound half bad, but Elsa refused to stroke his ego further by admitting that out loud.

"You sound awful," she chose to say instead, turning her head away again.

"Fine. Go ahead and be angry," he shrugged his shoulders. "I should warn you, though. If you don't stop, I'm going to have to do something drastic to make you smile again."

"Like what?" she asked, knowing he would make her regret asking.

Logan only gave her disturbingly cheerful smile as he raised a hand above his head and gripped one of the ropes hanging from the mast. The queen watched him with a highly dubious look as he hoisted himself up by the rope to sit on the railing of the ship. Elsa almost reached out for him, nervous that he might lose his balance and fall overboard, but Logan oozed his usual cocky confidence, unperturbed by his precarious spot on the edge of the ship. He gave her wink that could only mean trouble before bringing the harmonica up to his lips and playing a new melody.

It went on as just notes until, much to Elsa's sudden chagrin, he pulled the instrument away and began to sing.

_"Confusion sets in and it's holding me tight,_  
_This silence is as cold as this winter night,_  
_I'm not looking for answers, just picking a fight,  
__Not pulling my punches this time-"_

"Oh please stop," Elsa begged, realizing what he was doing. She looked around the dock with a blush blossoming on her cheeks to see if anyone was looking at them.

_"Delusion walks up and sits down for a while,_  
_Says son you'll make it through this if you just wave and smile,_  
_You can fool the whole world for a while,_  
_All that you'll lose is your mind."_

He wasn't necessarily a bad singer. His singing voice wasn't as deep as his speaking voice and was just a tad bit raspy on some notes. But he was purposely being overzealous about it and Elsa didn't appreciate the drawing of attention. She could feel her blush darken the more enthusiastic Logan's singing became.

_"And so help me, I'm gonna find Clarity,_  
_I've been chasing her down on my knees."_

He was attracting unwanted attention from the few crew members wandering the top deck and Elsa's pleas for him to stop went ignored. Her shoulders were drawn all the way up to her ears by then with her hands clutching her forehead and she felt hot under the collar of her blouse. Somewhere behind them she could sense the crew looking their way, snickering at the ex-bandit's antics and the mortified young maiden next to him.

_"She's always running,_  
_Slipping through my hands like a dream,_  
_Leaves me like a book with no theme,_  
_I'll be waiting for you to come back to me,_  
_Clarity."_

"Seriously, this isn't cute," she snapped, wondering what her chances of survival were if she were to throw herself overboard, or stick her head into a cannon. "If you're trying to embarrass me, it's not working. You're only making a fool of yourself right now, I hope you know that."

_"I'm walking the streets past the old promenade,_  
_I smell whiskey and cigarettes, identity fraud,_  
_People on the corner all trying to play God."_

She let out a huff, dropping her head into her upturned palm. The proverbial white flag waved; she wasn't going to play his game. Logan gestured to her once or twice during his song and it earned him an eye roll.

_"I feel disconnected from the rest of the world,_  
_I see an old woman with hair white as a pearl,_  
_I see thousands of people, but I don't see my girl,_  
_I need her to open my eyes."_

Finally the ridiculousness of the situation, and Logan's existence in general, got to the queen and a reluctant smile spread across her face in spite of herself. He really wasn't that bad. He wouldn't be headlining any concert halls anytime soon, but it suited him as it only could. It was a singing voice made for a cool night by the campfire, or a fun bout in a rowdy pub.

The song was charming enough, at least.

_"And so help me, I'm gonna find Clarity,_  
_Been chasing her down on my knees,_  
_She's always running,_  
_Slipping through my hands like a dream,_  
_Leaves me like a book with no theme,_  
_I'll be waiting for you to come back to me."_

Elsa laughed as Logan segued into a lengthy harmonica solo that obviously wasn't part of the song. She shoved his knee, almost knocking the instrument out of his hands and into the water below.

"Okay, stop! I'm not mad anymore!"

He pulled the harmonica away, "Are you sure? Because I think I can fit in three more versus."

"Yes! Just stop it before you get us kicked off the boat."

"Ship."

"Whatever."

"Aw come on, I'm not that bad. Give credit where credit is due."

Elsa only laughed again while Logan snickered, finally pocketing the harmonica before Carson came out and forced them to walk the plank.

"You know, except for the horrible improvising, you're not half bad on that thing. I didn't know you could play the harmonica."

"It's just something I picked up over the years. This old guy gave me one not long after I started traveling with Barley and his clan. He had only one eye and a hook for a hand, but he could play a mean Moonlight Sonata. It's the weirdest thing to watch him do it, too."

"Really? He could play the harmonica with a hook?"

"Yep. His name was Hooky."

Elsa's jaw dropped. "You called him Hooky and he had a hook for a hand? That's so mean!"

"Hey, I didn't say _we_ called him Hooky. That was his name. Honest to God. Well, I mean, I don't know if that was his birth given name, but that's what he told us to call him."

She frowned, not sure if she believed him.

"Can you play any other instruments?"

"I'm pretty decent on the piano."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but I'm way out of practice. I haven't played since I left home."

"Did your mother teach you?"

"Mhm," he replied, climbing back down from the side of the ship. "She was a very intelligent, cultured lady, especially considering her background. Real classy, you know? She used to read to me from some pretty hefty texts when I was young and insisted that I learn how to play an instrument and how to speak French."

"You can speak French?"

"On a commoner's level, yes. I can't discuss politics, or Aristotle's philosophies on virtue in French. At the very least I can ask where the bathroom is and how much a loaf of bread cost. Which is all you need to know, really. Anything beyond that is just showing off."

Elsa laughed. She herself was multilingual, having been tutored in languages she would need to utilize to negotiate trade agreements and alliances between foreign lands, with also a few lessons in some not-so salient languages solely for educational purposes and leisure. She also tried her hand at a couple of instruments over the years, to help test one of her parent's many theories that the discipline and practice that goes into learning an instrument could possibly transfer over to controlling her powers somehow, or at the very least give her an outlet for her stress, but...it was difficult to play with gloves on.

"Do you know any other languages besides French?"

"Norwegian, of course. A little Spanish that I picked up from Joaquin through my years working with him. You can only be called a _pendejo_ so many times before you start to figure out a thing or two. Context clues always help. I know bits and pieces of some other languages too that I learned while traveling with Barley, but nothing that I haven't had to speak more than once."

Elsa only hummed in understanding, neatly filing away these new bits of information inside her head somewhere next to "can play the piano" and "can help bring babies into the world, apparently". When Logan told her near the very beginning of their journey that he preferred to be versatile, she thought he was just being pretentious.

"Did you get things settled with Carson?"

"Yep. Consider our kneecaps safe."

"What did you use to pay her?"

"Nothing important."

Intentionally vague, but the queen didn't push further. She could argue that it was her business since Carson clearly charged Logan for the both of them and she had a right to know what he gave up for her sake as well as his own, but looking at him - leaning unbothered against the railing with her, occasionally taking a bite from his apple - it didn't seem like Carson asked for anything substantial. He would say something if she had.

They fell into a comfortable silence, both gazing out over the water. Elsa fell back into her thoughts and lost awareness of what surrounded her, but Logan remained in the present, almost envious of how far away the blonde could go in a moment's notice. It was always an unconscious habit for him to be acutely aware of everything going on around him. Sometimes he wished he could just block it all out and stare at a single fixed point along the horizon, completely lost.

He looked Elsa's way as he absently churned his apple in his hand. His eyes roamed over the stark paleness of her platinum hair and the way the bright moon made it glow. His gaze lingered on her for a few more seconds before he turned away and tossed his finished apple into a nearby barrel.

"I've been meaning to ask you," he spoke up, initiating conversation again. "What's your deal with ships? I mean, you're here now, calm and in one piece. Why did you freak out on me when I mentioned it last week?"

Elsa thought about it a moment, resisting the urge to gnaw on her bottom lip.

"The king and queen of Arendelle died at sea."

She felt comfortable enough with Logan to tell him why, but she had struggled to decide whether to refer to Agnarr and Iduna as her parents, or just the king and queen. Which ever she chose she had to be careful to stick with it. The king and queen seemed safe enough.

"Really?"

She nodded. "They were on their way to a royal function and they got caught up in a storm. The ship went under and there were no survivors as far as what was salvaged, which wasn't much."

"How long ago was that?"

"Five years ago."

"And you're afraid that the same thing will happen to you?"

"I don't know, maybe. After the news came back that their ship was lost, I just knew I never wanted to step foot on a boat. They were amazing rulers, very caring and fair to all their subjects. Their deaths nearly destroyed the kingdom. There was still so much they needed to do and so much that they left behind. I didn't think we would ever recover."

"Is Anna going to become queen now that she's twenty-one and getting married?"

She honestly didn't know. It had crossed her mind once or twice throughout her journey, but she forced it out of her head so she could focus on the task at hand. If Elsa hadn't been abducted then obviously no, Anna wouldn't become queen, even if she was the first royal daughter to marry. But now that Arendelle had no queen, naturally everyone would look to Anna to take her place, and much sooner rather than later if Councilman Volt had anything to say about it, and heaven knows he_ always_ did. Elsa felt her heart go out to her sister for having to deal with that crotchety old codger. Assuming that Anna had, in fact, taken on Elsa's role in her absence.

It was a dangerous question, so instead of answering, the queen gave a noncommittal shrug. It was enough to tell Logan that she really wasn't in the mood to talk about Arendelle politics right now. Silence once again fell over the two until Elsa let out a heavy sigh, bringing up her hands to rub at her face.

"I still can't believe where I am right now," she moaned through her fingers. "I know my reaction to sailing was ridiculous and entirely uncalled for, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let it bother me as much as it did, especially with everything at stake. I just get so afraid sometimes and hate that about myself. I try not to be. I try to be the strong, graceful woman I was raised to be, but I just can't help it. The fear and doubt is as much a part of me as the ice and I don't think it'll ever go away. I'm not like you or Anna. I'm the furthest thing from fearless."

"Hey, I'm afraid of stuff too, ya know."

"Oh really? Like what?"

Logan let out a "hmm" in thought before answering with, "Tubas."

"Tubas?"

"Yeah, tubas. They're just so big and obnoxious. You can get your entire head stuck in the horn part and suffocate. I don't trust them."

She balked at his ridiculous answer before shoving him on the arm and laughing. "You're such a liar!"

"Okay, maybe not tubas," he admitted, holding up a hand, "but I really am afraid of stuff. Like when I was a kid, I was afraid of the dark."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Yep. Still kinda am too. Well, maybe not _afraid_, necessarily, but it does make me uncomfortable. I don't like not being able to see, it makes me feel vulnerable. If I ever went blind, I'd be screwed."

Elsa suspected that he had more of a fear of vulnerability than of the dark. It certainly had to be what fueled it. She didn't particularly enjoy feeling vulnerable either (who did?), so she couldn't really fault him for it. The dark could certainly bring that out in a person, and while she never really had a problem with the dark, it could easily be associated with the feeling of isolation, just like the cold.

"Guess that damages my image some, huh?" he asked.

"No," she disagreed with a thoughtful smile. "I think it makes you sound more human."

"Even more than my badass harmonica skills?"

"A _lot_ more."

"You're just hell bent on bringing me down, aren't you?" he snickered, looking at her with a slightly disbelieving look. "Are we actually getting along right now?"

"Yes, don't ruin it by talking," she replied, surprising them both and drawing another laugh out of Logan.

They talked more after that; mostly about small things. Elsa wanted to ask what the plan was for when they docked, and how long it would be until their journey was finally over, but it had been a long day and she felt the more serious talk could wait a little longer. Just for tonight since they would be stuck on the ship regardless.

"Anna wants to take a ship out to sea for her honeymoon," she said softly, after another lull in conversation.

"Oh yeah?"

"She asked me what I thought and I told her I didn't think it was a good idea."

"Because of her parents?"

She gave him a sad smile, nodding. "I'm just afraid the same thing will happen to her. I made it through my grief for the king and queen. I didn't think I could, but I did. Anna, though...I could never overcome losing her. It would just be the end of me. I would be truly alone, if I lost her too."

"Like family to you, were they? The royals?"

"Yes, very close family. I never lived outside the castle before. It's all I've ever known."

Elsa didn't feel wholly comfortable talking about her life in the castle because it required she feed the lie, but she had always wanted to talk to someone about this. About Anna going out to sea for her honeymoon and about their parents. She shared a lot with Anna, but she didn't share _everything_ with her sister. There were still thoughts in her head that were her own, and that would probably always be hers just because she couldn't bring herself to say them out loud to anybody in the castle. Anna had been her only confidant. If Elsa couldn't share something with her, then it usually stayed bottled up in her head.

"I never really said goodbye to them before they left." She looked down into the water below as her fingers resting along the railing of the ship curled a little closer together. "Just curtsied and watched them go. I didn't want them to. I never said goodbye, and it still bothers me that I didn't."

"You couldn't have known what would happen," Logan told her. "Did they know about your powers?"

"Yes. They helped me keep them hidden," she replied, finding herself stepping on to even shaky ground, but not particularly caring. "They tried to teach me how to control them, but it's not like there were any textbooks they could draw lesson plans from. King Agnarr was the one who gave me the gloves."

"I never said goodbye to my mom when I left," Logan admitted. "I just packed a bag and left one day."

He could feel Elsa look at him, but he kept his eyes on the water. The queen felt oddly comforted, knowing it wasn't any easier for Logan to admit things like that than it was for her. It was an offering of condolences and she took it with a small smile, turning her eyes back forward.

"I wanted to thank you," she said after a while. "For reacting to my powers like you did - not freaking out and calling me a monster, I mean. And I'm sorry for accusing you of not taking things seriously."

"Well I suppose you weren't completely wrong, if we're being honest here. Awkward and depressing situations aren't really my scene."

"Obviously."

He let out a soft snort, one side of his mouth quirking up. "Yeah, obviously."

"Anna was the first person to accept my powers. She never shied away from them, even when it was dangerous for her. When she found out about them, I think she was more surprised than anything else, and a little hurt that I never told her. But still, very few people accept them so easily. Only you, Anna and Kristoff have."

"Maybe that's because we had time to get to know you first. It's easy to demonize a stranger. My mother used to say something to make me feel better whenever we went to town and people would stare at us. They would talk about us behind our backs all the time, whisper to each other as we walked by as if we couldn't hear them. It used to really bother me - the way they singled us out. But it never seemed to phase my mother. She would just take my hand and squeeze it tight before looking down at me, asking: what do they know about us, Logan? What do they really know about us? She would always ask me that.

Do you know the answer?"

Elsa shook her head.

"Absolutely nothing," he replied. "For some reason that always made me feel better because it's true. You worry too much about what other people think, which is stupid because why worry about someone who knows nothing about you? I mean, would you listen to a doctor who had no medical training? Or follow a king who didn't know how to rule? Of course not, because they have no clue what they're talking about."

"Why would people in your village talk about you and your mom?"

"Why does anyone talk about anybody? Because people can't help themselves from tearing down what they don't understand."

"I guess you're right," Elsa sighed.

Another lapse of silence. It was starting to get late. Elsa could feel her eyes begin to itch from exhaustion. She reached up a hand and rubbed her face, blinking a few times to clear her vision.

"Here, I also picked you up these," Logan spoke up again, reminding the queen that he was still there. "Just in case you still need the comfort."

Elsa watched and frowned when he pulled out another pair of gloves from his back pocket. They weren't as nice as the pair Tobias had given her, but they were still gloves. White in color with little blue flowers stitched on the hems. She blinked at them, not comprehending why Logan was offering them before remembering and realizing that she had lost her first pair days ago and that she had barely given them a second thought until now. Unsure of what to think of that, she reached out and took the gloves into her hands.

"Do you think you still need them?" he asked, watching her.

She pursed her lips in thought, thinking about how little she had actually needed gloves during this entire journey. There was still that anxiety of accidentally letting something slip in front of the wrong person, but she hadn't felt more in control of herself in months as she did right there and then. Her eyes slid shut in finality as she took in a breath and her fingers closed around the fabric in her palms.

"No," she said with certainty after opening her eyes again. "I don't believe I do."

Without a second thought, she tossed the gloves overboard, watching as they got swept up in the ocean breeze for a moment before landing on the water and being pulled under by the waves. Logan stared down at the water with a thoughtful look before pulling his own half-cut, work gloves off and tossing them in the water as well, leaving his hands bare like hers.

"What?" he asked when Elsa looked at him with an arched eyebrow. "I felt left out."

She let out good natured scoff and shook her head at him, crossing her arms again along the railing of the ship.

Somewhere behind them she heard a pair of crew members speaking in low tones. She felt herself tense up at the prospect of being their subject of discussion, and she found it hard to turn around and look, only to find that they were indeed looking in her and Logan's direction. Their faces were natural and didn't herald any insidious intent against them, no doubt just chatting about the curious pair of stowaways on their keen captain's ship, but she still felt herself shift underneath the attention.

Logan caught her look.

"What do they know about us?" he asked.

"Absolutely nothing," she replied without missing a beat, looking forward again.

Out of impulse, she weaved her hand through Logan's elbow and hooked their arms together. Despite her ice powers, he could feel the warmth of her palm through his shirt. Elsa looked out over the water with a content smile on her face.

Another pair of gloves discarded and never missed.

* * *

**AN: Since Frozen snuck in their own (supposed) penis joke with the whole "foot size doesn't matter", I decided to throw in one myself. Once again the featured song is "Clarity" by Lifehouse.**

**I play with clothing symbolism again in this chapter. Have any of you ever seen that post on Tumblr where Frozen uses symbolism through Elsa's gloves? Her gloves keep her inhibited by hiding her powers (and by extension, herself), but once her powers are exposed, she discards them during "Let it go". ****The post also points out that Hans wears gloves because he's also hiding his true self. The only time he takes them off is when he reveals his plan about overthrowing Elsa. Then, when he tells everybody Anna's dead, his gloves are back on because he's putting up his good guy facade again.**

**Logan also wears gloves, but I describe them as being half-cut for symbolism. For the most part, Logan acts like who he truly is, but he still has quite a lot of baggage that he rather went unseen - so he's kind of half and half.**

**Hope you enjoyed the new chapter! **

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	19. Heaving Through Corrupted Lungs

**AN: Thanks for all the lovely reviews, guys! We broke three hundred reviews! You guys have been an amazing audience. Do you think we can manage four hundred reviews? We'll have to wait and see. **

**Sorry that this update was late, but I had some Writer's Block with this chapter due to lack of motivation. It also didn't help that this chapter has a lot of action and it took some time to choreograph it all. There was a definite mood change in this chapter as well, as opposed to the previous chapter, so I had to do some scene setting for that shift, which can be a pain sometimes.**

**Warnings: Mild violence. Violence against women. Cursing (Two F-bombs).**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or its characters.**

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Elsa wasn't sure what it was that woke her up when she jolted from a dreamless sleep. A sudden jostle of her bunk too abrupt to be a movement of the fluid sea. A muffled bang from somewhere above. Half asleep, she heard it, but couldn't hold on to it as she entered full consciousness.

She sat up in her bunk, stark still in the dark with her ears tuned into her surroundings, trying to weed out any anomalies from the usual sounds of the ship. The vessel wasn't rocking deep as it did when they were fully out to sea and the queen wondered if they had finally made port. Like Logan had promised, the ride hadn't been bad, but a day on the water was more than enough and she was ready to get off and get back on dry land.

When she didn't hear anything other than the groaning of old wood, Elsa slipped off the scratchy blanket covering her frame, cladded only in her chemise. The floor was lukewarm under her bare feet as she stood from her bunk and reached for her blouse and skirt, folded neatly on an overturned bucket in the corner of her cabin. Sensing a sea change in the air, she dressed quickly. As she was lacing up the front of her corset, she heard another bang from above. She let out a gasp, looking up at the ceiling of her hall closet-sized cabin. With her fingers still clutching the tied laces of her corset, she stood there in the darkness, bathed in the sudden eerie silence.

Somewhere just outside her cabin door she heard hurried footsteps run past and towards the staircase that led above deck. Elsa watched the shadows move along the floor underneath her door where they were just visible from the dimly lit lantern that hung outside.

Heavy boots against wood pounded overhead, going about halfway across the top deck before stopping. Silence fell again as Elsa waited, her hackles raised in an instant. Something was wrong. This wasn't the stillness of a ship at port. It was a stillness heralding trouble. The lightening before the thunder, almost literally. Another bang sounded out, this time sounding explicitly like a gunshot and the deck above Elsa's head erupted into a maelstrom of charging footfalls and roaring shouts.

Elsa let out a yelp and ducked down, covering her head as canon fire gave a deafening boom and rocked the ship. She could hear the entire vessel give a loud groan of protest while dust dribbled down from the ceiling and pooled on the floor.

The queen bolted from her spot on the floor, throwing open her cabin door and running out into the hall of the lower deck. The lantern had been sent flying from where it hung on a crooked nail. It laid shattered across the floor with broken glass and oil, shrouding the area in darkness. The queen looked to her right, towards the staircase that was no longer there. The sailors who ran past her door must have pulled it behind them, keeping the cargo and the small lot of civilians on board tucked securely in the belly of the ship and protected from the chaos raging above. Elsa cursed at the spot where the staircase had been and the lack of a draw rope to bring it back down.

She needed to find Logan. Them being separated just didn't feel right, especially in the midst of an attack. The last time she had seen him was on the quarterdeck where they had watched the sunset together hours earlier, before she returned to her cabin for the night with the anticipation that they were that much closer to Arendelle. He had to be up there now, in the middle of whatever was going on. She would bet anything on it, that man was drawn to danger (or was it the other way around?). There was another staircase leading up to the top deck, in the sailors' quarters. She remembered passing it when she explored the rest of the ship that morning. The sound of battle still roared overhead as she took off down the dark hallway, her mind racing as fast as her feet.

It was the bandits. It had to be, unless they were taken siege by bloodthirsty pirates, which, to be perfectly honest, Elsa felt she would have preferred. Plunder and all. But the ice queen had never known such luck intimately and knew more than likely that it wasn't pirates, more's the pity. Dag must have gotten ahead of them again, possibly while Logan had been sick, and laid yet another trap for them. Another ambush they couldn't help but wander right into, and this time they stood on ground much easier to burn.

Without much of a sense of direction, Elsa followed the hallway, keeping her hand on the wall to her right, keeping her anchored as if in a maze. Fingertips to the right, turning as the wall did and eventually you would find your way out. This was a ship, so there were only so many turns to take, but it was a comfort somehow, a trick she had read in a book once. She kept her palm flat and willed her ice powers to remain below the surface as she moved through the ship until her ears picked up the faint sound of people whispering.

The dim light of a candle lantern nearing the end of its wick, glowed ahead when she turned a corner. A peasant man and woman whispered to each other with barely concealed panic as the man held the lantern in one hand and the woman's elbow in the other, keeping her balanced as she disappeared down an open hatch that led deeper into the ship before climbing down after her.

Standing in the shadows where the lantern couldn't reach, Elsa watched them until they were out of sight before stalking over to the still open hatch. She lowered herself down on her knees and peered into the hatch with her hands clutching either side. Inside the cargo hold were the passengers Elsa had seen around the ship, the peasants and common folk paying passage to new kingdoms with job opportunities and the families of some of the sailors on board. They sat huddled together in the murky belly of the ship. Men, women and children occupied every available space of the hold, sitting atop the rafters and cargo mounds and standing on the floor, almost knee deep in the cold sea water that managed to seep in through the ancient wood. Women clutched their children to their bodies in way of comfort and protection. Intellectuals held their books and journals just as close and crew members stood at the ready with hammers and planks of wood in hand, should the chaos on deck make its way inward.

The fear and uncertainty that came off the crowd was almost thick enough to see from where Elsa looked down over them. A few glanced her way, but didn't linger when they saw she wasn't a threat. Their eyes turned downwards once more, waiting in the dim light and muggy atmosphere of the hold. They knew what a situation such as this meant - pirates, as far as they knew - and they waited for absolution, given by the one priest that stood at the center of the hold, whispering passages from his holy book.

It was all very surreal, and Elsa didn't know what to make of it. She could only hope Dag's bandits would leave them be. There were far too many souls on this ship for Elsa to be responsible for if they were harmed because of Dag's relentless drive to recapture her.

A little girl with red hair tucked under a frayed bonnet looked up at the queen from where she sat on top of a cargo crate with a boy. She held a stuffed reindeer in her arms. They locked eyes and there was a silent passing of curiosity from the girl, and unspoken confusion as to why everyone had been woken up so early and ushered down in the smelly cargo hold. They couldn't hear the battle raging above from where they were, so the little girl remained unawares. The boy, on the other hand, who Elsa assumed was an older brother or cousin, seemed more in tune with what was happening.

He watched the other occupants of the hold over the top of his sister's head, his eyes surprisingly sharp and focused for a child only a few years older than the girl he held in his arms. He was skinny, as opposed to his sister who was still plump in the face and arms with baby fat, and he had a shaggy mess of dark brown hair on his head, untrimmed by a mother's hand with clothing just as unruly. The girl sat curled up in his lap with one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders and the other holding her hand. They sat atop of the cargo mound alone without a parental figure in sight and the boy glared at anyone who ventured too close.

The girl still looked up at Elsa, blinking her blue eyes that reminded the woman a little of Anna's, while the queen went unnoticed by the brother. She felt worry and compassion for the children, realizing they either belonged to one of the crew members fighting on deck, or were by themselves.

'Alright?' Elsa mouthed to the girl.

She nodded her head from where it rested against her brother's chest, tucked under his chin, and gave the queen a small smile.

An oriental wearing a red and yellow silk cap appeared at the bottom of the hatch then, climbing up the ladder with a lantern in hand and poking his head out. He was dressed as a crew member, but looked too weak to be above deck working the sails, hunched over with age and one eye taken over by cataracts. He said something rushed in foreign tongue and gestured with impatience for Elsa to come down into the cargo hold with the others. She shook her head, pulling herself back on her feet. He spoke to her again, his tone short.

"No," she said with firmness, shaking her head, hoping that he at least knew enough of her language to understand.

The slant-eyed man stared at her as if she were insane before shaking his head. He gave her an angry, dismissive wave with his free hand before disappearing down below again. Elsa watched as the hatch door was pushed into place and bolted from the inside, leaving the queen alone to move onward to the sailors' quarters.

Her vision adjusted to the darkness again, dulling everything down to grey outlines that she could make out just enough to avoid walking into a wall or tripping over a bucket left abandoned on the floor. It wasn't long before a hauntingly familiar scent began to waft in and mingle with the already tense air of the ship. Elsa's nose curled up at the spicy smell. Smoke. It made the back of her throat burn and her skin feel tacky. It caked the air of the lower deck, hazing the area like mist, thick enough to make visibility beyond three feet nearly impossible, but not thick enough to suffocate. She was still able to breath, albeit very uncomfortably. Her tongue felt like it was coated with ash.

She swallowed convulsively, fighting the urge to turn around and run in the other direction. She forced herself forward and down the dark, smokey hallway. The noises on the top deck still sounded out, but they were a faint echo drowned out by the ringing in Elsa's ears and the thundering of her heart in her chest. Her sinuses stung from breathing in the polluted air and she could feel a thin layer of grime already collecting along her palms, mingling with the sweat moistening her skin as she nervously wrung her hands at her sides. The ship creaked under her boots with each step she took. She passed the double doors that led into the gallery of the ship and began to walk faster when she finally saw the entrance of the sailors' quarters.

She skidded to a halt when a figure stepped in the entrance. There was barely any light in the backdrop, a lone lantern hanging in the sailors' quarters, but she could tell by the sudden ominous presence that it wasn't Logan or any of Carson's crew members. Through the haze of the smokey hallway, she made out flashes of a black and red uniform that signified a Demon's Fang bandit.

There was a moment of harrowing stillness that lasted a full five seconds as the two assessed each other from the opposite ends of the hallway before the pin dropped and Elsa spun on her heel. She heard the bandit give chase and she shot off an ice blast in his direction without inhibition, causing the hall to erupt with blue light as it sped down it.

The queen didn't wait to see if she had hit her mark. She ran back down the hallway, turning into the first door she came across. It was the gallery. She threw open the double door and ran inside, slamming them behind her while footsteps followed in hot pursuit. Elsa scanned the gallery as much as she could through the smoke, her heart pounding in time with the advancing bandit's boots as he grew closer. Her eyes landed on a table, big enough to barricade the doors with but just small enough for her to move on her own. She ran over to it and pushed it towards the doors. The legs scrapped against the floor and Elsa let out a grunt at the effort as she lodged it into the doors and then moved to lift it on to its side, but the bandit reached the gallery before she could put the table in place. He was able to break inside when he threw the bulk of his weight against the doors, ramming it open with his shoulder like a battering ram. Elsa let out a shout as she and the table were thrown backwards. The table falls half on top of her, but it wasn't heavy enough to inflict any damage. She rolled out from underneath it just as the bandit pushed through.

Elsa, sprawled out behind the table, scrambled backwards like a confused crab, putting distance between her and the bandit. All she could see of him was the black and red of his uniform and hood as he moved towards her. He grabbed the upturned legs of the table and threw it to the side. Elsa flinched, ducking her head down to avoid the legs of the flying table, giving the bandit the opening to reach down and grab her ankles.

"Get off!" the queen shouted, kicking her legs to dislodge the bandit's hands from her boots.

When he held steadfast, Elsa leaned back against the ground and reached up above her head, her fingers blindly seeking out the leg of the chair she knew had to be close. It wouldn't do any good to shoot off an ice blast when her assailant was practically sitting on her legs. Freezing him would only pin them both in place. When her fingertips brushed the sought out object, she wrapped her hand around it and heaved it towards the bandit. Pain ran through her wrist at the odd angle she had to twist it in to lift the chair high enough to grab with both hands. The bandit let out a startled shout when the chair was sent crashing into his face and chest, knocking him back and off Elsa's legs. She kicked to untangle them from his and scrambled backwards again, turning over and pulling herself on to her hands and knees.

She reached up to grab the corner of another table, to balance herself so she could get back on her feet, but a hand wrapping around her ankle like a vice and a jerk had her arms knocked out from underneath her and she landed on her stomach again with a winded '_oof!_'. The bandit pulled her by her ankle, growling for her to stop fighting him, but the queen still searched for something to grab on to, her hands flailing across the floor as she slid backwards. When he had her close enough, she felt him grip her hips, the painful dig of his blunt fingers digging into her skin through fabric, and flip her over so she was on her back again.

Elsa raised her hands, prepared to throw caution to the wind and blast her attacker clear across the room, but they halted in midair, glowing faintly with blue energy when she realized the bandit's hood had fallen away from his head. It must have happened when he fell back. Panic flooded her body from head to toe when she caught sight of fair blonde hair, riddled in patches across a scarred scalp. And dark eyes. Painfully dark eyes that consumed all light and reflected the lack of humanity of the person behind them. Through the smoke still polluting the air, Elsa felt pinned under the murderous gaze of Dag.

She screamed. Her hands shot out blindly in front of her to fend off the bandit leader. He knocked her hands to the side and swung his fist towards her face, making contact with her temple. White exploded behind her eyes, corroding her vision as her whole body went numb and pliant. There was a shrill ringing in her ears and she tasted copper, realizing she must have bitten her tongue or lip, but the hit to the head dulled the sensation.

Through the haze of her mind, she felt herself being lifted off the ground. None too gently, Dag picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. Her insides twisted with nausea and disgust at being touched by such a wicked man. Her arms and upper body hung limp down his back, swinging ever so slightly as the bandit leader turned and made for the exit. Delayed realization found her captured and being carried off to parts unknown, and as the pain in her head ebbed, Elsa's breathing picked up with panic and her hands reached to grab one of the gallery doors to stop the descent into the Hell that Dag was surely taking her into. But her grip was weak and it was easily broken when the bandit leader pulled against it. Her hands reached out for something else to grab on to, but the hallway offered nothing as purchase. Her mind had been knocked off its axis and it was difficult to conjure her powers without feeling a sharp pain in her skull and a lurch of her stomach. She could only hang off Dag's shoulder helplessly like a sack of potatoes.

The ship gave a sudden jerk, too powerful to be cannon fire, more like it had collided into something, and it threw the bandit off balance, sending him careening into the wall and Elsa on to the floor as he lost his grip on her. She felt the air leave her lungs as she landed heavy on her back, but didn't have the chance to gain it back before the bandit was launching himself at her again. He moved to kick her in her side, but she rolled out of the way, the fog of her mind finally clearing. She was now on her stomach again, awkwardly laying on her left arm from her roll with her feet spread out behind her. The bandit came at her again and she lifted her right hand to shoot off another ice blast, taking just a second longer to aim because her right wasn't her dominant hand. That second longer threw off the momentum of the attack and the blast whizzed past the bandit's head, giving him the advantage of the rebound. Before the queen could think to move, the bandit raised his boot and sent it down on Elsa's hand.

Pain erupted in her hand and ran up her arm in a sharp burst and the queen let out a scream that tore from her throat, her fingers pinned between Dag's boot and the floor. There was a crack and another bolt of pain and Elsa almost threw up at the sound. Numbness pooled through the veins in her arm, leaving only heat as she watched the bandit pull his boot off her hand. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks and she let out a wounded whine, snatching her hand away. Rolling on to her side, she cradled her bleeding hand against her chest, gasping in shock at the red decorating her fingers and palm. It hurt to even look at it. She couldn't move her pointer or middle finger and the skin of both set of knuckles was split open.

In a burst of rage mingled with pain, Elsa shot off an ice blast with her uninjured hand, knowing it was futile but needing to express the hurricane of emotions thrashing inside before she exploded and sunk the entire ship. The ice blast missed, hitting the wall behind the bandit leader. He didn't even flinch as it sped past his head. Through the smoke that felt more suffocating then ever, she saw him smile dangerously at her with a sick gleam in his eyes as he towered over her. Elsa pulled herself into a kneeling position, glaring defiantly up at her tormentor. He reached behind him and a second later she found herself staring at the business end of a pistol. A black barrel with a deadly shine pointed directly between her eyes. Her breath hitched in her throat. Dread filled her stomach and her heart felt light, realizing that this was it. Dag was going to kill her.

His finger squeezed the trigger before she could look away, but the split second before the gun went off, his arm jerked upwards and the pistol was discharged into the ceiling. The accompanying bang was deafening in the enclosed space of the gallery. It left Elsa's ears howling as her arms came up to cover her head with a scream. When she didn't feel the bite of the bullet piercing her skin, or the black oblivion of what she interpreted as death, she looked back up at Dag, still thinking the gun had been on her when it was fired. It took her a moment to work out what happened, why she hadn't been shot.

Just as the trigger was pulled, an arm had snaked around Dag's neck from behind, pulling him into a tight hold while another pushed his gun-wielding arm up and out of aim. Elsa stared from the ground as the bandit leader struggled against the person holding him before suddenly giving a violent jerk. There was a sharp intake of breath and the color drained from his face in the blink of an eye as he made a low, almost wet noise in the back of his throat. The queen could see his body go limp. The pistol slipped from his fingers and hit the ground with a thud.

He dropped to his knees, revealing Logan standing behind him. He wore an angry expression with his hunting knife in hand, the blade dripping with red. Blood gushed out of the spot where Logan had driven his knife into Dag's side and Elsa watched as the life literally poured out of him. His body pitched forward, preparing to collapse fully, but Logan reached out and grabbed his shoulder, taking care to lower the bandit to the ground on his side, only to keep him from falling on Elsa.

"I'm sorry," he said. For a second Elsa thought he was talking to the bandit leader, but when he stepped over him, ignoring the gurgling noises he was making as he drowned in his own blood, she realized he was talking to her. "I saw the bastard sneak below deck during the fight, but I couldn't get to him fast enough."

He had a small cut above his eyebrow with a trail of blood making its way down the side of his face and the knuckles on both hands were scraped and torn. Other than that, he looked unscathed.

"Are you okay?" he asked as his eyes moved over her. "Fuck, what happened to your hand?"

She ignored the question, doing her best to pull herself up with only one hand. Logan held out his free hand to steady her.

"Elsa-"

"It's him!" she blurted, cutting him off.

"It's who?"

"Dag!"

Logan looked at the bandit bleeding out on the floor and frowned.

"Elsa, that isn't Dag."

Even in the darkness of the lower deck, he could tell it wasn't Dag.

"N-no, it is! I saw his face!"

She scrambled over to the body, grabbing a handful of red material and yanking it away from the bandit's head - only to reveal dark hair and clear skin instead of stark blonde and patches. The queen stared down at him, her eyes gaping like pinwheels.

"W-what? No. No, that isn't right. It was- I _saw_ him. I looked right at him!"

She could feel Logan's stare burning into her back, but she ignored it as she pulled herself back on to her feet, still staring down at the bandit in shock. Concerned, Logan put his knife back in its sheath and reached out to grab her face with both hands, lifting it up and looking over her features again.

"You've been breathing in too much smoke," he concluded. "Come on, we need to get the hell of this ship."

He let go of her face and reached down to grab her hand. He turned and jumped over the body laying on the floor while Elsa sidestepped him and the puddle of blood still leaking out across the floor. Her nose twisted up at the sight, but she didn't stop as she let Logan lead her along. Her cloak was gone again, she realized as they moved. The weight of it absent from her shoulders as they made their way to the top deck. It must have fallen off somewhere in the gallery when she was attacked.

He led them to the sailors' quarters and mounted the staircase, keeping his hold on Elsa's hand as they ascended into the chaos.

She barely got both feet on to the deck before Logan was pushing her behind a stack of barrels. The sound of gunfire rang through the air. A cacophony of bangs as the crew members on deck kneeled behind any solid surface available as they shot off their firearms towards the docks across the port. The sound of return fire answered back, bullets whizzing just above their heads and embedding into thick wood, splintering it with a loud crack.

"Keep your head down!" she heard Logan shout over the noise. "They're going to let off another round of cannon fire!"

At his command, Elsa hunkered down behind their hiding spot and covered her ears. Logan pulled Sidney's pistol from its holster and crouched down next to her with his back against the barrels, popping open the chamber and checking how many bullets he had left.

"When the cannons go off, we're going to have to move fast! The cannons will knock the bastards on their asses, but we won't have much time before they start returning fire again, so I need you to stay right on my tail, you got that?"

Elsa opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by the aforementioned cannons. They rocked the ship again with a deafening roar as the cannonballs were sent sailing across the port and into the docks. Screams sounded out as they impacted, crushing and tearing down everything in their way. The gunfire and arrows from the bandits lessened, allowing the crew members on the ship to stand up from their cover and begin shooting off oppressive fire. The lack of bullets being shot at her gave the queen the courage to peek out from over the top of the barrel, seeing the ground in which they fought on for the first time.

She felt her heart sink when she saw that the bandits had taken cover inside a small fishing town. No doubt it was a simple town inhabited by simple people who were all probably huddled inside their homes, terrified by the gang of bandits taking over their homes and shops and using them to take cover in. It was still dark out with clouds collecting overhead. The landscape of the small town was similar to Arendelle's, with staggered foundations of the houses and shops, and steep land formations from the surrounding mountains. Further evidence of how close they were to her home.

Logan sprung up from behind the barrels, pulling Elsa up with him and telling her to move as he guided them on to the main deck. There were bandits on the ship as well, engaged in sword and fist fights on the spar deck.

Carson was locked in battle with a bandit Elsa immediately recognized to be Joaquin, Dag's right hand man. He held tight to his rapier, moving with powerful skill and grace while Carson wielded a machete. She lacked the grace, but not the power, and what she lacked in skill, she made up for with blinding anger, shouting profanities at the Spaniard as she lashed out at him, intent on taking his head clean off.

"Get off my ship, you fucking spank bucket, before I slice you from crotch to throat and leave ya to bleed like the animal you are!"

Joaquin parried, turning his sword vertically to counter a strike from Carson. Their swords sang as they came in contact with each other. "Hand over the blonde _joya_ and the _pendejo_ and we will! We know they're here!"

"Does this look like a negotiation to you, Amigo? Get off my ship or die!" The captain punctuated the last word with another swipe of her blade, missing Joaquin's neck by an inch. The Spaniard stumbled back, a genuine look of panic on his face as he suffered the full onslaught of Carson's explosive temperament.

"You fight surprisingly well for a lady, but you have serious problems, Senorita!"

Logan gave them a wide berth, crouching low and moving quick around them while Elsa followed. Carson kept the Spanish bandit distracted, matching strike for strike with a flawless counter as they engaged in a deadly dance across the spar deck. If he had the time, Logan would have stopped to admire Carson's tenacity. Joaquin was a master with his sword, but the crossdressing captain was holding her own quite well against him, especially considering she was always a better shot than a swordsman. Hell knows no fury like a woman scorned, though.

They managed to make it up to the foremast without getting spotted.

"How are we going to get off the ship?" Elsa asked. The ship was inside the town's port, but it was still a few yards out from the docks. There was a lot of open water between them and the town.

Logan leaned over the railing of the ship and looked down at the water, searching for an out. He had hoped that there would be a shore boat left floating by the hull, but all the boats the bandits used to climb aboard had already been swept away by the waves.

"Looks like we're going to have to swim."

The queen joined the ex-bandit against the railing and looked down dubiously. The coldness of the water wouldn't harm her, but she wasn't so impervious to drowning, and with her one of her hands wounded, it would make swimming to the docks even more difficult.

"I have a better idea!" Elsa proclaimed as she pulled herself on to the railing and swung one leg over at a time. Logan turned to look back at her from where he was surveying the ongoing battle just in time to see the blonde push off the side of the ship.

"What- hey! Wait!"

He ran over to the railing where she disappeared and looked over the side, expecting to see her thrashing to keep her head above freezing water, but instead saw her standing on a patch of ice looking up at him.

"Come on!" she called.

Logan smirked, impressed by the ingenuity.

"Thanks for the ride, Carson!" he shouted as he vaulted over the side of the ship.

He managed to land on his feet next to Elsa, but his boots slipped on the ice and he fell back on to his ass. He let out a curse at the pain shooting up his tailbone, but moved when Elsa pulled on his arm, urging him to get up and run. The queen did her best to grip the sleeve of Logan's shirt with her injured hand while she used the other to make the ice beneath them more coarse so it would have enough grit for Logan to stay balanced as they ran.

"_Logan!_"

They both looked up to see Carson glaring down at them, not at all acknowledging the fact that the two were standing on a patch of ice that appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

"This is because of your pasty arse, isn't it?" she shouted, pointing the tip of her machete in Logan's direction, spitting hell and fury. "They're attackin' my ship! When I get my bloody hands on you, you're goin' to have to change your name from Logan, to Louise!"

"Let's go before she starts shooting at us," Logan said, motioning for Elsa to go ahead of him.

They moved quick and used the shadows of the ship's hull for coverage. With Elsa in the lead this time, they made their escape by running across the water. Each step she took a patch of ice blossomed beneath her boot, keeping them afloat as they ran like the queen had done when she was fleeing her coronation. She kept it more controlled this time, only freezing enough of the water to make a path to the docks. It would only add insult to injury for the poor fishing town if she froze their port prematurely.

When they made it to the docks they climbed up in a more secluded part to avoid detection. One bandit spotted them and fired off a shot, missing Elsa by a step and hitting a storefront window instead. She ducked at the sound of shattering glass, but Logan pulled her back up, pushing her forward while aiming his gun at the bandit and firing, hitting him in the shoulder. He let out a shout and went down, giving the queen and the ex-bandit the opening to run out of the docks.

They ran through the cobblestone streets of the silent town until they couldn't go any further. Logan pulled them into an empty alleyway and they collapsed against the flanking walls, facing each other as they gasped to catch their breath.

"Here," Logan panted. "Let me see your hand."

Elsa's right hand trembled as she pulled it away from where she had it cradled against her chest. It throbbed with a pain that spread through her whole hand and down her wrist, but emanated from her first two fingers where the most damage was. The digits were bright red and swollen with bruising already forming in faint, purple blotches. The discoloration mingled with the blood coating her knuckles. The skin was torn open on her middle finger, fresh blood slowly leaking out to collect with crusty dry blood. It was a small cut, but there was still enough to stain the hem of her blouse sleeve, turning cream fabric into maroon.

Logan let out a sympathetic hiss as he examined her hand. Elsa watched, unmoving except for the occasional wince as he prodded her injured hand gently with his fingertips, checking her other fingers and palm for more damage. The queen remained silent, allowing the man to take her injured hand into his own and play doctor. He had long fingers, she noticed, choosing to focus on his rather than hers. Her right hand rested in the palm of his left, almost dwarfing it. If he curled his fingers around hers, they would completely blanket them. They made it easier to imagine him playing the piano.

"Okay, it doesn't look too bad. Your pointer and middle finger are broken, but I don't feel anything else, nothing dislocated or torn. They broke pretty clean so we won't have to set them. We'll have to find something to use as a splint, though, so they'll heal straight."

Elsa nodded weakly, taking her hand back as Logan looked around for something to wrap her fingers in until he could get his hands on another aid kit. He stepped out of the alley and ripped a few strips of fabric off a banner hanging outside a storefront. Elsa presented her hand once more when he returned, letting him bind her wound. When he was finished and her fingers were wrapped tight and secure, he used another strip to dab at the cut above his eyebrow, turning towards the store window behind him and using the reflection to clean the blood off.

Elsa looked at the fabric wrapped around her first two fingers. Her fingertips poked out of the top, an angry red with her broken fingernails cracked in their beds. Her fingers twitched under her gaze, sending another throb through her hand. Logan did a good job of wrapping them. The fabric would keep her from moving them too much until they found something more appropriate.

She leaned back further against the wall behind her with a shuddered sigh, practically hanging off of it as she willed her knees not to buckle. Her uninjured hand reached back to clutch at brick and immediately ice spilled out with an audible crackle from under her palm. It spread along the brick to trace her silhouette.

"I was so sure that it was him. I don't know how I could've saw differently - how I could've outright hallucinated like that," the queen stammered out, vaguely aware that she sounded a little hysterical. She clutched her forehead with her hand, staring uncomprehendingly at the ground as she poured over the memories of her encounter, trying to figure out where she had gone so wrong. The temperature in the alley dropped noticeably.

"It was the smoke. The fumes and lack of air can mess with your head," Logan reasoned, wiping off the last of the blood on his face before tossing away the strip and turning back. His eyes flickered up towards the ice crawling up the alley wall, looking over the silver fractals that coated the hard brick before they were back on Elsa. "You just saw what you were expecting to see."

"Still," she said with a small hiccup, emotion welling up in her throat. "How did we walk into something like this again? Is Dag even here at all?"

"I don't know, I didn't see him. He could've gotten ahead of us somehow, or it could've just been another ambush he planned in advance. It's hard to tell with Dag. I told you he was a strategical genius. He could've tracked us as far as Weselton and made an educated guess where Carson's ship would dock."

"You were on deck when this started. What happened?"

"I was on the quarterdeck with Carson. We were preparing to make port when we noticed something was wrong. It was too quiet on the docks. There's always an unsettling stillness before an attack happens, I've found, and if you spend enough time around things like this, you can pick up on it pretty quick. Despite what she'll have you believe, Carson hasn't had too much experience with raiding bandits or even swashbuckling pirates, but she isn't completely unaware. We moved to go on the defensive and they burst from the shops with crossbows and guns and fired on us from the docks. Some even managed to climb aboard from shore boats and ziplined from some of those taller land formations."

"Shouldn't someone have been watching for that?"

"Yeah, there should've been. But it's my fault. I didn't tell Carson about the trouble we were in, not the full magnitude of it. If she would have thought that we would bring on an attack like this, she would have never let us on board her ship. There was always a possibility of another attack, and I _knew_ that, but I honestly didn't think they would try it here. I'm sorry. I almost got us backed into a corner we wouldn't have gotten out of."

She didn't know why he was apologizing. Under different circumstances, she might have been a little peeved at the dishonesty, even if she wasn't the one he was being dishonest with, but he did what he had to do. They had gotten where they needed to go and it shouldn't be on them, at least not completely, what happens with Carson and her ship. They couldn't shoulder everyone's problems and they couldn't risk their lives for every stranger. There came a point where you needed to look out for yourself and your own and refuse to think any more on it, otherwise you would drown.

Elsa was learning all sort of new things about life and survival on this journey, things she would have never learned in her past life behind castle walls. It was a cruel, ugly world sometimes, and she needed to think about what was best for her sister and her kingdom. Always. And maybe it was the pain from her hand, or the fear from her attack, but she was beginning to doubt...well, everything, really.

"This is never going to stop, is it?" she heard herself asking. She looked up at Logan and saw the question in his features. "What are we going to do when we reach Arendelle? Dag's not just going to stop chasing me when I pass into the kingdom's territory. He's not just going to go 'oh shoot, she made it back to Arendelle. I guess I have to leave her alone now'. There isn't some magic force field that's going to stop him from following me right to the front doors of the castle. And it's _me_ who he's after. Am I doing any good by going back? I want to go home to my friends, to Anna, but is that really such a good idea? If I bring back Dag and his bandits, then all of Arendelle is going to pay. I mean, look at all the trouble I've caused you just by association. Dag would still think you were dead if it wasn't for me! You wouldn't have gotten hurt!"

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down," Logan chided softly. "Don't start thinking like this now. You just had a close call with another bandit and it's okay to be upset. I'd be more concerned if you weren't, really. But this isn't the time or place for you to breakdown and shut off."

"But I'm right, aren't I?" she asked, her tone accusing, daring him to agree. "I'm the cause for everything - everything that has gone wrong, and everything that will go wrong. I'm a magnet for trouble! Why are you even still with me?"

"Because you need my help," he replied, reaching out to grip her shoulders so she was forced to look at him. "Let's get one thing straight, Sugar. Don't go blaming yourself for something that can't be helped. Yes, you're the one that Dag's after, but Dag is a sick son of a bitch and you should _never_ take blame for the things he says or does. This is the kind of shit he pulls all the time and he takes delight in the pain he causes other people. It's just the kind of person he is. _He's_ the one to blame for all this, not you. No one can fault you for wanting to go home. And as for me - I _chose_ to do this. I didn't walk into this blind and unaware, Elsa. I knew what I was getting myself into from the very beginning and I still took the job. Whatever happens to me, it's not on you."

The ice moved further up the wall. It nearly touched the roof now.

Not so convincing, then.

"We're both magnets for trouble, but we've made it this far, haven't we?" he tried.

Elsa had her eyes downcast with her arms wrapped around herself. The makeshift bandage around her fingers had gone red with blood, but only a little, signifying that the bleeding had stopped. She seemed somewhere far off, untouched by his reassurances. Logan reached up to brush back a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face. Her braid was a mess and she had smudges of dust all over her face, but she still managed to look stunning with her tragic sadness.

"Haven't we?" he asked again, tucking the strand behind her ear.

Rain began to fall. It was a frozen shower. The drops were fat and heavy, hitting the cobblestone outside the alley with a splat before thickening into a clouded slush. The overhang in the alley shielded them from the sudden downpour. The temperature lowered and Elsa's mind was buzzing so hard, it was difficult to tell whether the shift in weather was because of her, or just the natural course of winter. She looked up at Logan through the hair that hung in her face, her body trembling with lingering fear and adrenaline as she cradled her wounded hand against her chest once more. He was unperturbed by the cold drop, his own chest heaving from the exertion of fighting and running. His body gave off a potent heat, she could practically see steam coming off his shoulders.

The ice behind her inched further up the wall. Logan took in her pitiful state, realizing that this must have been the first time anyone had inflicted any substantial bodily harm on to the blonde. Many have gotten close - guards with crossbows, a falling chandelier, jumping off a waterfall, a disgruntled bear woken up from its nap - but she somehow always managed to get away relatively unscathed. She had certainly never had a bone broken before, let alone have half her hand crushed.

Logan let out a sigh, exhaling through his nose as he looked into her wide, blue eyes.

"C'mere," he told her, his voice soft.

He reached out for her, ignoring the way she flinched at his touch. He pulled her towards him, meeting her halfway as he moved to wrap his arms around her shaking form until she was flush against his chest, hugging her. They both tensed out of reflex, even as Logan tried not to - the desired effect being to sooth the spooked doe of a woman in his arms. Logan wasn't much of a hugger, as he suspected Elsa wasn't either, and it felt almost foreign, like hugging in a different language. He has offered his body up as a way of comfort in the past (sex, protection, punching bag), but not like this. When was the last time he had done something like this? Offered comfort in the form of a hug? He couldn't remember. Possibly never.

It should have been harder than it was, holding her with a tenderness he rarely expressed to even the closest of his friends, but it wasn't. He relaxed before she did. The muscles in his arms loosened until they almost hung around her frame, finally able to project the sense of calm he wanted Elsa to feel. He couldn't guess what was going through the woman's mind. He expected her to shove him away. To yell at him for crossing boundaries. But after a few seconds he felt her relax, too. She sagged against him, going almost completely limp by letting go everything she was holding back at once and nearly falling to her knees, but Logan kept her upright, anchored. He felt her uninjured arm slip around his middle as she buried her face into his chest and returned the embrace.

She made a sound torn between a sob and a sigh while her fingers twisted into the blue fabric of his shirt that ran along the subtle curve of his spine. Her injured hand was held between their bodies. Her senses were filled with the smell of gunpowder, smoke, sweat and the faint traces of camphor oil and forest. A scent that was Logan, mixed with the scent of battle. Elsa latched to the parts that were his, finding them almost as familiar to her as the air inside the Arendelle castle. The smell of safety and home.

In the distance, Logan noted that the sound of fighting grew quieter and cheering louder. The cheering was coming from Carson's crew. Dag's bandits must be making their way into town in retreat, finally noticing his and Elsa's escape. They would be converging on their hiding spot soon enough once they started scouring the streets for their trail. They would have to leave the alley and move on. He found himself reluctant to say anything, though.

It could wait just a moment or two more. They wouldn't acknowledge that the ice on the wall behind Elsa had receded, nor would Logan ask why that was and what it meant. They wouldn't acknowledge the attack or the fact that Logan had just killed someone (because of her - nay, _for_ her), or that Carson will probably be forever gunning for Logan's head. It could wait.

"I lost my cloak again," she mumbled into his chest, sniffling.

He let out a soft snort into her hair. His hand reached up and cupped the back of her head, pulling her in closer while he ignored the cold her body still generated.

"We'll get you another one."

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**AN: Again, sorry this update took so long. Hopefully next chapter will come quicker.**

**I was pleased that after Logan's little song last chapter, some of you wanted to know who I would imagine as Logan's voice. I'm a video game lover so I think Troy Baker (who is a big voice actor for games these days) would be a good voice for Logan. For those of you who also like video games, he did the voice for Booker DeWitt from 'Bioshock Infinite' and Delsin Rowe from 'InFamous: Second Son'. Baker tends to play really cocky, sarcastic characters so you can probably see why I would use him for Logan.**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! We're looking at another Anna and Kristoff chapter next to help dispel some of this gloom, so stay tuned for that. **

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	20. Anna and Kristoff III

**AN: Thanks so much for all the reviews last chapter! I really appreciate the support. ****Once again, sorry for the late update. I found out my dog had cancer earlier this month and I had to have him put down, so that really messed up my motivation for writing.**

**I realize it probably wasn't very standard for the ruling figure of a kingdom to be out in the kingdom doing manual labor, and that Elsa probably didn't really, either. But I imagine Anna being like Leslie Knope from the show "Parks and Recreation", in her approach to getting things done in her community. Just hopelessly optimistic to do the very best she can while the apathetic people around her make it as difficult as possible. ****I also borrowed a lot from the Frozen deleted scene "Halt, you swine!", just because I thought it would be fun to use some of the excluded material from Frozen, and because there's shenanigans galore when Anna's in charge.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or its character.**

* * *

On the whole, today was a disaster.

Granted, it could have been worse. The kingdom was still standing, after all, so it was safe to say that it hadn't been a devastating catastrophe that ended all life in Arendelle.

It could have gone _better_, though.

In Anna's defense, some of things she had to do were just ridiculous. The council had gotten together that list she requested, not sparing a single indignity when doing so. And why would they? They clearly hated her guts, if that outrageous list was anything to go by. And perhaps she had been asking for it. She didn't bid thee farewell too politely the last time they were all in a room together. But did Anna really deserve to feel like a failure who couldn't do anything right? She didn't think so.

She had expected that taking on Elsa's responsibilities would be difficult, and she had prepared herself for it, but she didn't think that she would meet resistance, every single step of the way.

From the crack of dawn, Anna and Kristoff had been running around the kingdom, doing anything and everything they could to complete their list of inhumane labor, all so Anna could prove to four, crotchety old people that she could rule in Elsa's place without having to officially swear in as the new queen of Arendelle.

It started out innocent enough, taking on the most important items and authorizing actions that could only move forward with a thumbs up from the princess. Then she and Kristoff moved on to the less important, less crucial items that Arendelle relied on to remain whole and functional.

They had been helping a little old lady florist unload her cart when they heard the collision. The florist had only been a quick pit-stop on their way to the mountains to see the ice harvesters, but it became a detour as they set down the potted plants they were carrying and raced towards the sound of shouting. It led them to an intersection where a big traffic accident formed in the center.

One wagon had two of its back wheels missing with a full supply of cheese wheels as cargo while the other wagon laid on its side. It carried bundles of sheep's wool and animal skins, most of which were scattered across the dirty ground. It seemed that the two wagons had collided with each other, both owned by merchants who were standing among the wreckage, screaming.

"Why weren't you watching where you were going, you blind idiot!"

"I was! It was your crooked-foot horse that done it!"

"Don't blame my Ethel. You wouldn't know your left from your right if it were tattooed on your hands!"

Anna stepped forward to put herself between the shouting men, but the plank of wood that held back the cheese wheels gave way and they came bouncing out of the back of the merchant's wagon. The merchant shouted in panic while the other laughed at him, thinking it payback for his ruined skins. Anna yelped and ducked out of the way as a wheel hit the ground in front of her and bounced over her head. She turned to run after it.

"Kristoff!" she shouted, "Help me grab them!"

Kristoff shouted something vaguely affirmative from where he held on to Sven's reigns, trying to keep the excited reindeer from taking off after the wheels. He had that hungry look in his eyes and cheese was not part of a reindeer's ideal diet.

"I got this one!" Olaf called out, chasing after one of the wheels that escaped the intersection and started rolling down a hill.

Anna reached out to him, "No, Olaf! Come back!"

But the snowman was already gone, off to disrupt even more traffic with his oblivious self and probably not even catch the wheel. Kristoff ran around picking up the cheese wheels until he had a tall stack in his arms. Sven kept biting at his elbows, trying to get to the cheese and Kristoff did his best to shoo the reindeer away while balancing the precarious bundle in his arms. He walked back to the cheese merchant as careful as he could. He was doing well until he tripped over one of the wagons' broken wheels and fell to the ground. The cheese flew out of his arms and up in the air before bouncing against the ground and rolling away again.

Anna watched the scene with a bubble of hysterical laughter threatening to pour out of her mouth at how crazy things had just gotten. Today had been a very hard day, but this took the triple-layered cake with sadness frosting and blistered feet gumdrops.

They had been working on that list all day. It had just about everything on it, from trade embargoes to construction to event planning. It compiled of important tasks, like; ordering new tools for the ice harvesters, settling any disputes between fur and salt traders, directing the reconstruction of the damaged buildings still left over from the bandit raid, and trying (and failing) to sort through the mountain of paperwork ever growing taller on Elsa's office desk, threatening to reach an impossible summit (honestly, she felt like she needed rope and a climbing ax whenever she went in there).

And some not so important, like monitoring the painting of a new moral in the kingdom town square, and judging the largest pumpkin contest at the market fair, and then helping carve said pumpkin (that had been kind of fun, actually, she won't lie) and helping Oaken unclog his sauna pipes. And while that last one could just be seen as a favor for a friend, the others didn't have such an excuse, and it seemed the petty complaints knew no bounds. Anna never realized how pushy people could be when they wanted something done by someone other than themselves, and it seemed the more pointless the request was, the pushier people were about getting Anna's attention.

With the important things she tried her best to address them with what knowledge and experience she had at her disposal, which wasn't much. If she had been any less committed she would have let the council take care of them since, and she hated to admit this, they were more qualified to handle them than her, but she didn't want to be blindsided by any underhanded tricky, like getting fooled into approving something she shouldn't, or inadvertently relinquishing her power to the throne. So she opted to going out and seeing to the tasks herself, cutting out the middleman of paperwork and legal documents that she had no hope of understanding in this lifetime.

She wore a comfortable day dress of warm, autumn colors. An orange skirt with a brown collared bodice and a pale long-sleeve blouse with a green headband that adorned her head with her usual twin braids. She reveled in the beauty and genius that was her chambermaid, Gerda, for picking out such comfortable clothing for her to wear today. It made this whole kingdom taskmaster process easier and a Godsend for the unforeseen event of chasing after runaway cheese wheels.

Anna realized that this wasn't the kind of approach that Elsa would have used, or any ruling body, but since Anna didn't know much about the politics that went into being a king or queen, this was the only way she felt she could be of any use. It was a grueling, more difficult approach, but it was Anna's approach, and did she not tell the council that she was nothing like her sister? That they shouldn't compare her to Elsa because she was so much different? Because she meant it. For one thing, Elsa actually knew what she was doing. Anna didn't. Elsa trained her whole life in preparation for her title as queen of Arendelle. Anna got it thrown at her because of a lack of other contenders. She would do her best to keep Arendelle standing while Elsa was...away (saying that as if she was on vacation or something, Christ), but her return couldn't come soon enough.

"I don't understand, why are there so many cheese wheels!? Arendelle doesn't even export cheese!"

Kristoff had somehow found himself on top of one of the cheese wheels, running on it like a log roller. Sven ran along side him, but the reindeer seemed more invested at getting a bite of the cheese than helping his best friend.

"You're doing great, babe! Just keep your back straight and your legs moving!" the strawberry blonde shouted from where she stood.

"My, quite an operation you have here."

Anna whipped around at the new voice, grimacing at the sound of Kristoff crashing into something somewhere behind her.

She tried not to let the ridiculousness of the situation embarrass her in front of a man who ate up weakness and vulnerability in other people like a bowl of fruit in the morning. Kristoff was groaning in pain, there were cheese wheels everywhere, the merchants were still screaming at each other with their wreaked carts still blocking the road and she had no idea where Olaf wandered off to...

Definitely not the best moment for the most skeptical of the council members to suddenly drop by.

Councilman Volt stood on one of the corners of the intersection, watching her with his hands behind his back and his shoulders drawn up to his ears, casting a tall, oblong triangle of a shadow on the ground.

"Good afternoon, your highness," Volt greeted with a customary bow, looking like the embodiment of death and despair in his obsidian black attire among the bright atmosphere of Arendelle's main court. The sunlight made him look even paler and his face more gaunt. It wasn't flattering in the slightest. She half expected him to burst into flames and crumble into a pile of ash any second.

"Afternoon, Councilman," she returned with a nod.

"Master Bjorgman," Volt nodded over her shoulder at Kristoff, who stumbled around behind Anna, gripping his forehead as he fought to stay upright. "Things are going well, I hope."

Anna stifled another grimace and matched the councilman's cool stare with a bright smile.

"They're going fine."

Volt raised an eyebrow at her with an air of malevolent amusement, but said nothing else about the chaotic situation around them.

"In fact," Anna continued, "they couldn't be better. I'm almost halfway through that list you gave me, and I have to say, I'm a little disappointed. I thought it was going to be way harder."

"Oh?" Volt said, the corner of his mouth curling up.

The voice inside Anna's head told her to end it there, to not say another word because the first half of the list had _not_ been easy, at all. But her lifelong nemesis, word-vomit, had other ideas.

She let out a forced, nervous laugh, "Yeah, you made it sound like this was actually going to be a challenge! I know I'm not a desk jockey pro like my sister, but I've never been more confident of myself. This hands-on approach is really what the kingdom needs right now, you know what I mean? It feels more open and progressive, I think. Everyone can just say what they feel and we can communicate directly with each other - I haven't heard a single complaint so far. It's great!"

Okay, stop talking now.

"Not a challenge you say?" Volt's tone oozed with mockery, making Anna frown. He could tell she was lying through her teeth and he was patronizing her for it, she knew it. "Well, I'm relieved to hear it, your highness. Admittedly I was quite worried when the council and I put together the list. I thought that maybe we were asking too much of you."

"Nope. It's been easy-peasy," Anna smiled, biting down on her tongue to keep herself from finishing with 'lemon squeezy' and humiliate herself further.

Seriously, quit and live to fight another day.

"You won't mind if I add a few more items, then?"

"What?" Her smile faltered for a moment before it went back to showing a blinding amount of false enthusiasm. "O-of course not, Councilman. What did you have in mind?"

Nice going, idiot.

Volt didn't reply. He looked over Anna's shoulder with a neutral face just as she sensed someone coming up behind her and she turned to see Kristoff almost stumble into her back. She reached out a hand to steady him while he let out an embarrassed laugh. Her eyes swept over his body, making sure he hadn't injured himself when he crashed.

"Are you alright?" Anna asked. The fake smile on her face and the barely concealed annoyance underneath it melted away and was replaced with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured her. He reached up and rubbed the back of his head as he gave her one of his sweet, sheepish smiles. "Thick skull, remember? Hello, Councilman."

"Master Bjorgman," Volt nodded, "the princess was just informing me about the progress you two have made, and I have to say that I'm impressed."

"Really? Thanks- I mean, thank you, sir."

"Indeed. And from what the princess tells me, I think it would be well in your capabilities to take on more."

Kristoff gave Anna a pointed look which she refused to meet, before addressing Volt.

"She did?"

There was no way they could handle anymore than what they were already given. They were both exhausted and it was just too much. He knew Anna wanted to prove that she could be a competent ruler in Elsa's absence, but not at the expense of running herself into the ground. The strawberry blonde could certainly try, but Kristoff would do what he could (and then some) to stop her.

"Actually, Councilman, with respect, I don't think that would be-"

The crack of a gun going off ripped through the air and ricocheted off the walls of the buildings flanking the intersection, making everyone start. Kristoff's hands came up to grip Anna's shoulders in a protective grip while the princess raised her hands to cover her ears. They turned towards the sound of the gunshot and saw the cheese merchant and the wool merchant still arguing with the latter holding a smoking pistol in his hand aimed up at the sky. He shot it off as a way of intimidation, but the other merchant refused to back down.

"Ah geez," Kristoff groaned. "I better go break them up."

He gave Anna's shoulder's a comforting squeeze before he released them. She gave her fiance a nod and watched him go. A real smile spread across her face for the first time that day before she noticed the look on Volt's face. The man stood straight up again from where he ducked down at the gunshot and smoothed out the front of his clothing with annoyed jerks as he watched Kristoff.

"What? Why are you looking at him like that?" she asked before she registered that the councilman's expression was one of distaste. "Oh, you're not going to start in on him too, are you? I hope this isn't going to lead into that whole spiel about Kristoff not being worthy enough to marry me, because if it is, I think it would be better if you returned to the castle, councilman. Kristoff has been working the hardest out of anyone, and without a single complaint which is more than I can say about most people."

"No, I won't burden you further. But since you brought it up, perhaps you can add that to your list as well. After all, Queen Elsa isn't around anymore to deflect the discussion. I think it's owed."

"I don't owe you or the council anything. It's not up for discussion. It wasn't when Elsa was here, and it still isn't now."

"I thought you said you weren't like Queen Elsa."

"I'm not."

"No, of course you're not," he agreed. "Queen Elsa would never track in such riff-raff."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Anna asked hotly, her hands on her hips.

"The rats at the docks, your highness, it's a new item for your list. I hear report that the kingdom exterminator has been shirking his duties again and the townsfolk are taking issue. Queen Elsa was always quick to reprimand the fellow when he's taken too much to the bottle and fail to keep our kingdom vermin free," he replied without pause. "What did you think I meant?"

Anna gave him a suspicious glare, but when the man's face didn't so much as twitch, she let the backhanded comment slide. Volt knew he could be openly disrespectful towards Anna and get away with it, but he opted to passive aggressiveness for the sake of professionalism. Anna wasn't fooled. However, she had more important things to worry about than Volt's rotten attitude.

He gave one last look around the intersection with a slight curl to his paper thin lip.

"Are you sure you're not having trouble, your highness? This is quite a mess."

"Like I said, everything is going just fine, Councilman," Anna replied with her hands on her hips, trying and failing to keep herself from sounding snide.

"So it is, so it is," Volt replied, eyeing a stray cheese wheel that rolled past them. "I suppose I should let you get back to it, then."

Anna held back a loud '_Yes!_', and nodded. They exchanged their goodbyes before Volt turned on his heel and stalked off back towards the castle. The princess shuddered when the last of his presence left her.

That guy really curdled her milk.

"Well, that was fun," Kristoff sighed, coming up behind her once the councilman was out of earshot. He looked down at himself and the cheese smeared into his clothing and curled his nose up at the smell he now gave off. "I'm going to go change because I smell like seven different types of cheese. When I get back we can do the next thing on the list. Do you think you can handle things until then?"

"Don't worry about me," she assured him, drumming her hands affectionately against his back before pushing him in the direction of the castle. "I'll hold down the fort. Just go get cleaned up before all the mice in the kingdom fall in love with you."

She watched him leave with Sven. The reindeer was practically glued to his side. He would stretch his neck out and lick at the cheese on Kristoff's clothes, only to be swatted away. Once they were gone, Anna breathed in deep and let out a sigh as she looked around her. While she spoke with Councilman Volt, Kristoff managed to break apart the feuding merchants and they were now working together (albeit begrudgingly) to wrangle up the runaway cheese wheels. They gave the princess a nod with their flat hats against their chests and assured her that they could handle the clean up on their own. They saw her off with a wave and Anna found herself wandering the streets. She had been on her feet nearly non-stop, working on the long list of tasks the council had so graciously put together for her. It felt almost surreal to be walking on her own like this without being approached on all sides by castle staff and citizens.

Despite Elsa's absence, kingdom life went on as normal as one could hope after a devastating bandit attack. It wasn't like there was much choice in the matter. The world wouldn't stop spinning just because Arendelle's queen went missing and people still needed to make a living. Anna understood this, but she envied their ability to keep moving. Elsa has been gone for almost two months now and the best Anna could do for herself was find ways to stay occupied until she came back. It felt good each time her and Kristoff crossed off another item from their list, like they were finally making some headway, but there would just be another list waiting for them afterwards, and it made the princess wonder just how many lists she would have to go through before it wasn't enough, for both the Arendelle council and her.

Anna's thoughts circled inside her head as she walked aimlessly through her kingdom until she was pulled out of them by the sound of sniffles. She looked around and realized she had wandered into the market. She followed the sound and came across a boy with dark hair and a tooth gap crying on a stoop outside one of the shops. Anna recognized the boy as Anders, one of the children who would come to the castle to play in the gardens whenever Elsa found the time to use her powers to entertain.

Anna looked around for the boy's parents, but didn't see anyone. She let out another sigh before squaring her shoulders and jogging over.

"Hey, what's wrong, sweetie?" she cooed as she sat down next to Anders on the stoop.

He lifted his head from his hands and stuttered out a response through his tears. "My pig, Norm, is missing! I was helping my Ma set out the pies and when I turned around he was gone!"

She reached over and placed a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Oh, is that all? Don't worry, I'm sure he's around here somewhere. Do you want me to help you look for him?'

"No! I want Queen Elsa to help me," he protested, still crying.

Anna stifled a wince at Elsa's name and forced the smile to stay on her face.

"You know Queen Elsa isn't here right now," she said in a calm tone - but then reached out with a desperate hand when the boy cried harder. "Oh! But I am! I'm still here for you! And I'm surprised you don't know this already, Anders, but I am the kingdom's _top_ pig finding expert. Come on, I'll help you look for him."

Anna stood up from the stoop and motioned for Anders to stand too.

"Really?" he looked at her with hopeful eyes.

"Mmhm."

She held out her hand to him and smiled when he grasped it tight with a bright smile and renewed enthusiasm.

"Thank you, Princess Anna!"

With a warm, bubbly feeling in her stomach, Anna guided Anders by the hand and the two went in search for the boy's beloved pig. The other tasks she had been doing were hard and frustrating, but this felt good, helping Anders find his pet. This felt like something she could handle one hundred percent. After all, it was just finding one little lost pig.

There wasn't much of a lead for them to follow, so they just picked a direction to start with and walked the street calling out the pig's name. They would stop and ask everybody they passed if they had seen the creature, which some didn't and most weren't sure, but other than that they searched blindly. When twenty minutes went by with no sign of Anders' pig, Anna felt his grip on her hand loosen and she looked down to see the dreaded lip quiver and watery eyes.

"Hey, don't worry," she said, kneeling down and gripping his shoulder. "We'll find him."

He rubbed at his eyes, hiccuping again, "but we've been looking forever and we haven't found anything!"

"I know, but we just have to keep trying. If we don't find him soon, then we can make posters and hang them up around the kingdom. I'm sure someone will find him."

"Really? Don't we need a permit for that?"

"A permit?" Anna echoed in disbelief before laughing hard. "Of course we don't need a permit! What a silly thing to say, silly goose. Now, come on! Let's get this search party back on track. We'll search all afternoon if we have to!"

Anna took the boy's hand again, but before they could resume their search, she heard someone call out her name.

"Oh, there she is! Princess Anna!"

"Princess Anna!"

She turned to see a crowd of people, townsfolk, coming towards her. They weren't charging like bulls, which meant they probably weren't coming to bombard her with demands, but the looks on their faces told her that there would be no deflecting whatever was coming.

"Uh-oh," she breathed before looking down at Anders. She patted the top of his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. "Hang tight, sweetie. I'll be right back."

She released Anders' hand before he could protest and walked towards the crowd, meeting them halfway. They piled in around her while talking all at once. Anna let out sigh, already feeling the pressure. She looked around for something to stand on so she could address the crowd as a whole, rather than try to yell over the next person in front of her. She spotted a stake of hay bales and climbed on top of them, giving her a higher vantage point.

"Alright people! One at a time! I can't understanding anything any of you are saying!" she called out over the crowd. She waited for a few moments for the noise to die down. "Now, what's this all about?"

"We were told that you would be out in the kingdom today!" one woman shouted. "We've been waiting to speak to someone for ages!"

"We have questions and concerns, but the council keeps telling us we need to speak to you about it!" An older gentleman added and a ripple of agreement went through the crowd.

"Questions and concerns?" Anna replied, thinking for a second before taking a breath. "Okay, that doesn't sound bad. Whatever I can do to ease your minds, lay it on me."

They started talking at once again and she did her best to pick out questions she could answer. They were yelling at her, but ever the optimist, Anna preferred to think of it as they were "caring loudly" at her, because they wouldn't be so loud if they didn't care, right? Kristoff never thought so, but she always chose to look at the glass half full. Otherwise, she might just lose her mind and take everybody with her.

"How come no one has cleared off the road leading up to the North mountain? There's still fallen trees blocking it!"

"Don't worry, sir, we're still working on that."

"Princess Anna, is it true that the search parties have all been called off? Are you no longer looking for Queen Elsa?"

"No, of course not. I mean yes, yes we're still looking. We just ran low on resources and manpower. We sent out word to other kingdoms in plea for any new information on Queen Elsa's disappearance if found and I will follow up every possible lead personally."

"Princess Anna, I'm sorry your wedding was ruined! I thought your dress was really pretty!"

"Aww, thank you!"

"I find there to be a disturbing lack of benches in the kingdom! How am I supposed to get any exercise on my walks if I can't sit?"

"Sir, that's not really-"

"I found one of the books in the school lesson plan to be highly offensive! There were pictures of naked people on almost every page!"

"Of course there were naked people in it. It's a book on Greek art, you moron!"

"It's rude and inappropriate!"

"Go back to the hole you crawled out of, you pious snob!"

"Shut up, Edgar!"

"Make me, Ane!"

"Please no name-calling!"

"My bird is missing. I need a permit to post signs. Where can I get a permit?"

"Oh my God, you really need a permit for that?"

"There's a sign by the courtyard fountain that says please do not drink the water, so I made some tea with it and now I have an infection. I want to know what you're going to do about it!"

"Uhh..."

"Why are there cheese wheels everywhere?"

Everyone talked rapidly at once again, getting louder as they tried to speak over one another. Anna waved her arms in the air to get them to be quiet.

"Okay, okay, stop! That was a stupid idea."

They seem undeterred by the fact that she was the (temporary) ruler of Arendelle and that, technically, what she said goes, with no if's, and's or but's about it and that their complaints could mean less than nothing to her if the mood suited her, but she obviously didn't cut a very authoritative figure. Councilman Baard warned her about this before she went out this morning. Choosing to go up close and personal with her subjects could get ugly, especially during a crisis.

Anna looked out over the crowd with her arms held out by her sides in a plea for calm and cooperation.

"Come on people! I'm sure if we all came together and did our best to work through these problems, then you'll see that you're capable of being reasonable- _pig!_"

She spotted Anders' pig, sitting on a cart of apples left unattended behind the crowd. The townsfolk looked on in confusion at the princess' outburst. Before anyone else could react, Anna jumped down from her makeshift podium and took off running, cutting through the crowd as she made a beeline for the creature. When she pushed her way past the last of the gathered hoi polloi, she ran towards the cart with a look of fierce determination on her face. The pig lifted its head from where it was pilfering apples and let out a squeal when it saw Anna running towards it.

"Halt, you swine!" she shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at it.

The pig, Norm, jumped down from the cart just as Anna launched herself forward. The strawberry blonde let out a squeal of her own when she missed the pig and tumbled over the cart, flipping it over and sending the apples to the ground. She barely managed to keep on her feet, rolling with the cart in a clumsy barrel roll to land upright and stumble forward. The owner of the cart shouted out with indignation as he watched his produce scatter across the cobblestone, collecting bruises from the rough ground and catching underfoot of passing marketgoers.

"I'm sorry!" Anna apologized over her shoulder as she pursued the pig. "I'll replace the apples!"

Her feet kept moving as her attention lagged behind. When she finally turned her eyes forward, a table appeared out of nowhere and she ran right into it before she could even think to turn. The table was long with a full length display of freshly baked apple pies. She slid across the surface of the table, knocking off the pies as she went until she stopped at the other end. The table flipped tail up under the unbalanced weight her body provided. Anna let out a yelp as she crashed into the ground with the pies, creating another huge mess in one fell swoop. The smell of apple and cinnamon was overwhelming. She pulled herself up into a sitting position on top of the ruined pies before letting out small whine when she realized she was covered head to toe in sticky pastry mush. It was everywhere. It clung to her clothing and smeared across her skin, on her face, up her nose. She could even feel it in her hair.

The unfortunate baker of the pies and his wife stood off to the side. They watched as Anna shakily pulled herself to her feet, dripping apple bits and pie filling as she used a nearby post for support. She gave them a miserable look.

"I'm really sorry about your pies. I'll help bake new ones."

The baker and his wife balked, both imagining the princess having free rein of their kitchen and paling at the potential catastrophe the idea heralded.

"No!" they shouted in unison before remembering who they were speaking to. They bowed their heads, stuttering out polite declines and reassurances that there was no harm done and that they could handle the pies on their own. Anna nodded with defeat, pushing back her hurt in favor of going after Ander's pig. The baker and his wife's vehement refusal of her help stung, but she understood. The entire day was just one mess after another and at this point even she doubted her ability to peel apples and roll dough - something she did for_ years._

She left the baker behind and continued her search for Anders' pig, deciding to leave with what little dignity she had left. People stared at her as she passed, but she ignored them.

'_Yes, yes, I know. I look ridiculous. Stop staring or else I'll make pie guts Arendelle's official uniform!_'

She finally spotted Norm outside the market, close to the outer wall of the kingdom. He stood between a spice shop and the wall, nosing at a pile of garbage with his snout. Anna picked up the pace at the sound of his piggy snorts, determination once again taking hold of her face. She would not let him get away this time. She would get Anders his pig back, even if it killed her.

It was such a small, almost asinine task, but if Anna could make just one person happy today, then it would be worth it.

Norm's little pig ears perked up at the sound of Anna's boots clicking against the cobblestone. He let out another squeal and bounded off towards the wall. Anna was certain she had him now, cornered with nowhere else to go, but she noticed too late that there was a missing brick in the wall, just big enough and just low enough for the pig to wiggle through and escape once more.

Anna skidded to a panicked stop just before running full force into the wall. She cried out in frustration, pounding her fist against the hard stone. She kneeled down and stuck her face through the missing brick slot. Norm was on the other side sitting a few inches away. Anna reached her arm through the hole and grunted in effort as she tried to grab the pig. Her fingers were just out of reach of him and he knew it. He sat cool as a cucumber, unperturbed as he watched the princess make a fool of herself.

Anna pulled her arm back and looked through the hole.

"You have five seconds to get your pink butt back over this wall before I have you made into bacon," she told the pig. "You're going back to Anders one way or another, mister."

Norm only let out an oink that sounded suspiciously cheeky.

Well, what an interesting turn her life had taken, being taunted by a _pig_.

Anna let out a growl and reached through the hole again, flailing her arm around in a desperate attempt at catching the smug swine. Norm watched her for a few more moments before finally standing up and walking away.

"Oh no you don't!" Anna shouted.

She pulled her arm back through the hole and stood up. She launched herself on to the wall like a spider and scrambled up it, scuffing her boots beyond repair. The stones in the wall stuck out just far enough for her to climb, but she was aware that this was going above and beyond the call of duty, and if Kristoff were there he would surely think her suicidal. The wall was about ten feet high and the princess let out a mighty groan as she heaved herself on top of it. She panted from the effort and carefully stood up. Vertigo threatened the corners of her vision, but she forced it back. She looked around the wall for something to climb down on to so she could get on the ground without having to jump and risk injury.

There was a pennant banner of Arendelle's crocus ensign just within reach. Anna eyed the distance between her and the ground, and then the distance between the outer wall and the wooden post in the fjord where the other end of the banner was tied to. Her brow knotted in thought as she wondered how plausible it would be for her to grab on to the banner and use it to gently lower herself to the ground. She tried to do calculations in her head, as if she knew anything about the physics behind a ridiculous stunt such as the one she was about to attempt.

Deciding to just wing it instead, Anna drew herself up on to her toes and reached for the banner. Her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she wiggled her fingers in the air. Her fingertips grazed the pennant, but were unable to get a good grip on it. Anna let out another huff before crouching down and jumping up to grab it, realizing a second too late that that probably wasn't a good idea. She grabbed the pennant, but when she came back down, she landed on the heel of her boot wrong and her balance was thrown. She let out a squeak as her body pitched forward. Her other hand reached up and grabbed the banner just as the stone beneath her boots disappeared and she fell off the side of the wall.

By some miracle the banner held the princess' weight and Anna slid down it with the palms of her hands burning from the rope. She ziplined over the rocky shore outside the outer wall and over the fjord until she hit the post at the other end. She let out a pained noise, her face and body pressed up against the rough wood before her body swung back and she was left dangling over the water.

There wasn't a second to collect herself before the sound of straining rope was heard and Anna felt the banner begin to give way under her fingers. She looked up at the banner, and then looked at the water below. There wasn't enough distance between her and the water for her to get hurt, nor was the water very deep, but an impromptu swim at this time of year definitely wasn't going to be pleasant. She looked back up at the banner once more and let out a defeated -

"Okay."

The rope snapped and Anna plummeted into the fjord with a loud splash.

The water came up around her head and the silence left a dull ringing in her ears. She floated there in the water for a few moments, suspended and weightless with the tips of her boots just barely skimming the ground before kicking off it and breaking the surface again. The strong smell of fish and salt water assaulted her nose and she let out a disgusted noise. Her clothing and hair were completely soaked, making her feel heavier in the water, but not enough to keep her from wading towards shore.

"Anna!"

Now waist-deep in the fjord, Anna looked up at the sound of her name to see Kristoff standing in one of the archways of the outer wall. He was wearing a new outfit with his hair still damp from his bath. When he spotted Anna walking out of the water, he came running.

"Oh my God, Anna! Are you okay?" he asked once he was close enough. "What happened? How the heck did you get all the way out here in the fjord?"

"Ugh, long story," the princess groaned. She flopped down on a rock and began to wring the water out her braids. "I'm okay, though. I mean, I've failed just about everything I set out to do today, but other than that, I'm great. Peachy keen."

Kristoff gave Anna a sympathetic frown as she reached down and twisted the soaked fabric of her skirt, wringing the water out. She twisted hard until not a single drop came out before releasing it.

"Stupid pig," she grumbled under her breath.

"Me?"

"No, not you."

Kristoff watched her mumble to herself for a few more seconds before exhaling through his nose. He shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around Anna's shoulders. His hand touched some of the wet gunk on Anna's clothes and he grimaced.

"What happened to you?" he asked, sniffing cautiously at the stuff on his hand. "Is that cinnamon?"

"Pig, pie," she replied, still grumbling. "Well, not _pig pie_. Pig _and_ pie. And ocean."

"Come on, let's get you back to the castle before you start shivering."

"Alright."

Kristoff helped her up with his hands on her shoulders and the two slowly made their way up the shore and towards the closest archway of the outer wall. They just passed under it when Anna shouted back over her shoulder at the empty shore.

"This isn't over, Norm!"

"Who are you talking to?"

~O~

After a much needed bath, Anna stood outside in the ruined castle garden picking up litter with Olaf. She was cladded only in a fluffy bathrobe and a towel turban with a rubbish bag in one hand and a litter stick in the other.

She poked at the trash on the ground listlessly as Olaf talked nonsense behind her. Most of the damage to the garden had already been taken care of with the debris cleared out and the garden repaired back to its former glory, but there were still a few pieces of trash overlooked here and there, and since Anna didn't have anything else to do, she decided to give whatever servant in charge of this a break and do it herself. After all, they had been pieces of _her_ wedding. Remnants of what should have been a joyous ceremony. Little bits and pieces of what should have been the happiest day of her life.

It was nightfall and the crickets were playing their music in a mass symphony around her. She couldn't sleep. Her body was sore and exhausted, but her mind was wired. Kristoff was in the stalls with Sven, where he spent most of his nights. He had a proper room inside the castle, of course, but the ice harvester preferred to sleep outside where things felt more familiar to what he grew up with. Though, she supposed that would have changed after they got married, which didn't bare thinking about right now. The giddiness and nervousness towards that particular aspect of married life had been pushed aside indefinitely until a resolution to this abduction conflict presented itself.

"Hey Anna," Olaf called out. "Watch this!"

Anna looked over her shoulder at Olaf to see him holding a balled up piece of paper in his hand. He pulled off one of his coal buttons and picked up the ball of paper and started juggle them. He juggled them for a few moments before giving Anna a big smile and taking off his head, adding that to his trick.

"Pretty good, right?" he asked, managing to keep eye contact even though his head was tossed up and down in the air.

She offered him a poor excuse for a smile. "Yeah, pretty good."

He continued to juggle his head for a few more seconds before tossing everything high in the air and catching them one by one, his button and head first, putting them back into place on his body and then the ball of paper. He caught it with a flourish, striking a pose and letting out a showman's '_ta-da!_' with a goofy smile.

Normally, Anna would clap and cheer for him, indulging his pride like one would a child's (because that was what he was, really), but she found she couldn't muster the strength this time, not even enough to pretend. She only gave him a nod before turning back and poking absently at the trash on the ground. She could feel Olaf deflate behind her, but he seemed to get over it quickly, as he did with a lot of things. A few moments later she heard his carefree shuffle make its way over to one of the garden benches and a soft sound as he hoisted himself up on to it. The princess looked back over her shoulder to see him sitting on the bench. His twig hands tapped idly together as his gaze roamed curiously while humming softly under his breath.

Anna took a seat next to Olaf on the bench and let out a sigh, propping her litter stick and bag against the leg of the bench.

"Hey Olaf?" The snowman looked at her with a happy 'hm?'. His carrot nose had been knocked slightly askew by his trick and it sat crooked on his face, but he didn't seem to notice. "You know that I'm not mad at you, right?"

"Of course, Anna. Why would I think that?"

"I don't know. I just feel bad about snapping at you those first few days, after what happened to Elsa. I wanted to make sure that you knew that - that I'm sorry and that I'm not angry anymore, and even when I was, it was never at you, or Kristoff or anybody else."

"I know that. You were angry at the people who took Elsa."

"Yeah...I guess so," she sighed while toying with the belt of her robe, not even sure that was true. She had been angry at those bandits, but she had also been angry at herself. For what, she had no clue. She reached up and rubbed at her tired eyes. "I'm sorry about everything. I haven't even asked how you're feeling about all this. It hadn't even crossed my mind. She's your creator. You have to be taking this hard, too."

Olaf pursed his lips, thinking about it.

"Well, it has been hard, I'll admit that, and I am pretty worried about Elsa, but I guess I just believe what you say, that she'll find her way home to us. We just have to give her time."

Time. What a cruel but hopeful thing. To sit in such agony all for the sake of waiting for something good to come out of it, something that isn't even a guarantee and more of a gamble. Anna thought back on what Kristoff asked her, what Councilman Baard asked her, what the entire council asked her. How much time was she willing to give waiting for Elsa to come back? Realistically, speaking.

Anna would wait out the rest of her days for her sister's return. There was no doubt about that. But this wasn't just about her, was it? Anna wasn't the only one who relied on Elsa's presence. If their roles were reversed, what would Anna want Elsa to do? Live in constant doubt and worry for the rest of her life but keep the faith that her missing sister might turn up one day, or do her best to keep the kingdom that their family had been ruling for generations safe and maybe someday get past her pain enough to have a happy life? Which would Elsa see as betrayal and which would she see as the right choice?

There was no way to do both in their entirety without disregarding the other. Anna could hope to her heart's content, but she couldn't keep playing substitute ruler forever. She either had to officially step up to the plate, or relinquish the responsibility to someone who could.

Anna was pulled from her thoughts when Olaf spoke again.

"And hey, when she does come back, just think of all the stories she'll have to tell us. I'm sure they'll be great, filled with adventure and excitement. Far off places and interesting people," Olaf gushed before something came to mind and he sucked in a breath. "Oh! What if she's even made a new friend? I love new friends!"

She gave another smile, this time a little stronger, and reached out to nudge the snowman's nose back into place. "Those are nice thoughts, Olaf. Thank you. I'm sure she's made a new friend, too."

"It'll be okay, Anna," he told her, patting her knee reassuringly. "You'll see. It'll all work out in the end."

Olaf pushed off the bench, giving Anna one last smile and walking off towards the entrance of the garden in his usual, stub-legged shuffle. She watched him go until he disappeared inside the castle.

She took a look around the garden, listening to the crickets with the glare of the castle windows streaming out in the corner of her eye. She could make out where everything had been set up for her wedding ceremony. The weeping flower altar near the garden's marble fountain with the rows of pews stretched out in front it. The elaborate floral arrangements atop white columns, placed between the rows with lavender silks linking them together. The sheer drapes strung up above where the ceremony would take place. The wedding runner with traditional Norwegian design, and the large display of flower petals on the grass in the center of the garden depicting Arendelle's crest. Elsa had helped Anna plan it all and it had been beautiful. More beautiful than she could have ever imagined.

She had wanted a Spring wedding, but Kristoff had proposed to her in mid-summer of that year and she hadn't wanted to wait. She had half the thing already planned since she was seven years old. The last piece of the puzzle had finally fallen into place, she had found the perfect guy for her, and it would have been torture to wait any longer. But maybe if she had...

No, that was ridiculous. As if her wedding had anything to do with the bandits' attack. They probably still would have raided their kingdom if it had been an ordinary, run-of-the-mill day (the lax security during kingdom ceremonies and celebrations notwithstanding). Elsa had obviously been their target and they would have gotten to her one way or another.

Anna remembered crystal clear, standing in the middle of the castle garden just moments after the last of the bandits had vanished. Kristoff had released her from his tight, protective hold and she stumbled back outside, calling Elsa's name, only to find the garden in ruins and her sister gone. Streaks of green and brown stained the skirt of her wedding dress from where she had tripped and fallen on the grass. Some of the pearls woven into the lace fabric of her bodice had been ripped off and scattered across the ground. She had a handful of her dress in one hand as the other hung limp at her side. Her chest heaved, causing the loose strands of hair in front of her face to blow back and forth. Her eyes were wide with panic and disbelief and the whole world seemed to come to a jarring halt. The full impact of the attack wouldn't set in until hours later.

Anna pushed the memory away and dragged her hands across her eyes, banishing the wetness that had started to accumulate there.

God, her face hurt. Too many forced smiles in one day. In one lifetime.

Letting out another sigh, she wiped her runny nose with the sleeve of her robe before standing with her litter stick in hand. She reached down and picked up the ball of paper Olaf had discarded, noticing that it was a piece of newspaper. Without really thinking about it, she peeled back a portion of it and frowned at the headline written in bold, black lettering from a newspaper she had never heard of.

_'New Marvel of the World: Arendelle's Snow Queen, conjurer of real life magic?'_

'_A massive, out-of-season snowstorm surrounding the quaint kingdom of Arendelle sparks curiosity and controversy for miles, baffling religious bodies and scientific communities alike. Many report that on the day of Princess Elsa of Arendelle's coronation as queen, a severe weather shift overtook the land and trapped the inhabitants in what has been called an "Eternal Winter", said to be caused by the kingdom's very own newly crowned queen._'

Anna stared down at the article with a look of surprise and confusion.

The Great Freeze hadn't been confined to just the boundaries of Arendelle. Well, yes, it had. The snow part had, but the news of it certainly hadn't. Officials from every kingdom that Arendelle was in affiliation with had attended Elsa's coronation and had been trapped by the storm. It would have been unrealistic to believe no one had said a word about it once they returned to their homelands. It was hard to say how far exactly the story of Arendelle's Snow Queen spread, but in the weeks following the Great Thaw, the kingdom saw no shortage of visitors in a steady influx through the rest of the summer, hoping to get a peek at the mystical queen supposedly residing in the castle.

Although having a crowd constantly squatting outside their home like it was a zoo exhibit or circus act was annoying, it did wonders for Arendelle's economy, which had been severely stunted because of the storm, and all the extra tourism nearly made back everything that was lost because of the unnatural shift in weather. It had been a necessary evil, in a way. Or at least that was what Elsa called it, anyways.

The kingdom saw no shortage of "fan mail", either. Elsa witnessed the blunt of that wave alone, preferring to have all incoming letters and articles sent directly to her private office which she kept locked when she wasn't inside so even the most curious of sisters and talking snowmen couldn't sneak a peek at what the rest of the world had to say about the ice queen. She took all the slanderous newspapers, the accusations of an elaborate hoax and the (mostly) anonymous threats against her personal safety in admirable stride.

Anna wished she had thought to ask Elsa, just once, how she managed to handle it all. How she was able to shoulder so much for something that could be so thankless at times. Anna had only been doing it a day and already she was sick of it.

But no, it wasn't strange that there would be newspaper articles out there on Elsa from places other than Arendelle, but it was strange to find one in their castle garden.

She unwrinkled the paper further and saw a picture of Elsa. Or what was left of a picture.

It depicted Elsa in her full ice queen garb, the glittering blue dress made of ice with her braided hair open and free, inside the main courtyard of Arendelle's castle. She stood between the two frozen fountains with her arms up in the air, a flurry of snow raised up around her. It would have been a nice picture of her if it wasn't for the angry, erratic, chicken-scratch writing defacing the most of the article, and the unsettling error plaguing her sister's figure in the picture.

Her face had been scorched out.

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**AN: I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! This one was definitely silly, but I tried to keep Anna true to character and include cute mannerisms and remarks that you would expect to come from Anna. It made the chapter seem more Disney than the rest of the story. This is the last Anna and Kristoff chapter, so it'll be all Elsa and Logan from here until the end. Again, sorry for the late update. I had a crappy month. Let me know how you liked the chapter.**

**My birthday is on the 31st of this month, so any reviews I get this chapter I'll consider birthday presents, so make sure to leave a review! I hope you all have a good Halloween. Let me know what your costume is in a review, I'm curious to know. Happy Halloween!**

**~Scorpiofreak~**


	21. Leave It to the Breeze

**AN: Thanks for the reviews last chapter! I really appreciate the support. ****I hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving (those who celebrate it). Christmas is right around the corner! Special thanks to Wintermoonqueen for giving me a little extra beta reading on this chapter.**

**Warning: References to period typical social sexism and reference to possible trigger situation.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or its characters.**

* * *

"Alright, here should be good."

Logan looked around the small clearing appraisingly with his hands on his hips.

This would work nicely. Plenty of open space with flat, even ground of only dirt and grass.

Elsa stood behind him, toying with a loose thread on her bandaged fingers, trying not to look as nervous as she felt. Her stomach bubbled with cautious anticipation and her skin felt warm from the energy buzzing underneath. She still felt lightheaded from her spur-of-the-moment decision. It was unlike anything she had ever wanted to try before and she couldn't tell if she was more anxious or eager. She couldn't believe she asked this of him. She couldn't believe that he had accepted.

Logan looked back at her.

"Are you sure you want to do this? It might be a little overwhelming for a first-timer."

Elsa held back a tense sigh, giving him a pleading look.

"Please don't make me ask again. It was embarrassing enough to ask once already."

"What's there to be embarrassed about? It's only natural to want this after everything you've been through. Trust me, this will help get rid of all your pent up frustrations. I'm actually looking forward to blowing off some steam myself. It'll be great."

"Do we really have to do it here, though? We're practically on the side of the road."

"No we're not, stop exaggerating. We're at least a quarter mile from the trail. No one is going to see us all the way out here, I promise."

"Easy for you to say. You've obviously done this a hundred times before."

"Stop worrying, I'm really good at this. You'll do fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me."

Elsa closed her eyes and drew in a breath.

"Okay."

"Good," Logan smiled. He reached up and unwrapped his navy blue scarf from his neck. "Now, take off your cloak."

"You mean the burlap sack hanging from my shoulders?" Her fingers pulled at the drawstring of the itchy cloak that they had pinched from a merchant's chart yesterday.

"Yeah, that."

Logan shrugged off his gun holster and tossed it off to the side with his scarf. Butterflies fluttered anew in Elsa's stomach as she watched him. This was such a step they were about to take. The level of trust this showed on both sides was staggering. Her inexperience must have shone like a beacon to him, with her standing timid behind him with her thumbs twiddling and her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. She hoped that she could keep up with him.

This was insane. She still couldn't believe she had asked Logan to teach her how to fight.

It was just so unlike her, to suggest such an outrageous idea. An outrageous idea that had flitted across the surface of her brain for the barest of seconds before she found herself voicing it out loud without the second, third and fourth thought she gave everything before it came out of her mouth. And it didn't help that she had blurted the request out randomly as they traveled on horseback, breaking the hour long silence that she and Logan had been engaged in.

She couldn't stop thinking about what happened back on Carson's ship. Not with just her hallucination of Dag, but with how powerless she had felt when that bandit attacked her. The smokey air had made it difficult for her to use her powers and she hadn't realized just how much she relied on them for defense until she had her hand stomped on and a barrel of a gun pointed in her face. It was an experience of enlightenment. Not much time over the past two years had been spent exercising her powers with the intent for defense, but Elsa had always believed that she could fall back on them if her words failed to resolve a bad situation peacefully. That obviously hadn't been the case on the ship, and she realized the possibility that it wouldn't be the case again, next time.

And it wasn't all about her. It rarely was, anymore. Logan had to _kill_ that man, just to protect her. It wasn't fair. Regardless of Logan's lack of empathy in the act, Elsa hated that she had put him in that position. She didn't care that he compartmentalized it as a choice of her life over the bandit's. She didn't want people to kill for her, or because of her. It wasn't right. She had hired Logan to escort and protect her, but never, not even in the beginning, did she expect, or even want, him to go to that extreme for her. She felt as if her own hand had been on the handle of Logan's knife, ramming it home into the bandit's side. It made her feel sick to her stomach.

She tried to talk to him about it, even though she wasn't sure what it was she wanted to express (gratitude? guilt?), but he had shot her down.

'_It was my choice to make and I made it. End of discussion._'

Before she had let them fall into the aforementioned silence, she had asked him if there had been a way he could have disarmed and dispatched the bandit without having to kill him, or if it the confrontation really could have only ended in one or the other. Logan didn't answer, and she didn't push. It frustrated her though, that he wouldn't talk to her about it. She wished he would at least tell her how he was feeling about the whole thing.

He had been reluctant at first, towards Elsa's request to teach her how to fight. He didn't want to risk aggravating her injured fingers, which upon binding them he had discovered they were broken like he had suspected, but it didn't take much for Elsa to convince him. It was something that he was surprised he hadn't thought of himself. The blonde might have seen it as a far-fetched idea, but he thought it made perfect sense. With Elsa being as popular as she was among the bandit circuit, the lady needed to know how to tango like the rest of them. He had never really taught somebody how to fight before, so this would be a learning experience for the both of them.

Pretending to be put-off by the bizarre detour, Logan guided Elsa and their (stolen) horses off the trail and into the forest in search for a good spot to hold class. They stood in the clearing now. Their horses were tied to a tree and the unnecessary accessories that they wore were stripped away, allowing them to move more freely. Logan was all confidence, but Elsa stood stark still as if she had been struck by her own ice. Her fight or flight instinct had her knees bent, stuck in between bending to run and locking in place.

If Anna were here, she would have lived for this exercise. Elsa yearned to prove just how equally tenacious she was. This could be a new defining factor for her. A new way to defend herself without her ice powers. She wouldn't be a master at it, but if she learned just a little, then that could be enough. It was exciting, to learn something so left wing from everything she had been taught growing up. Going from high society etiquette and dainty dining forks to fighting techniques and black under fingernails.

"Alright, let's see what you got," Logan said as he turned to face her. He gestured to a spot on his chest. "Punch me here as hard as you can."

Before he had agreed to teach her, the ex-bandit made her promise that she would do everything he told her to, no questions asked. She didn't want to disappoint him so soon in the lesson, so she pushed back the knee-jerk reaction to shy away from hurting someone.

Biting her lip, Elsa made a fist with her uninjured, dominant hand and pulled back her arm, but just as she was about to swing, he stopped her.

"No, not like that." He reached out and tapped the knuckle of her thumb. "Take your thumb out from behind your fingers, otherwise you could break it."

She did as he said and pulled her thumb out. She looked back up at him for direction and he nodded for her to continue. Flexing her fingers one more time, she curled them in tight and pulled her arm back again. She aimed for the spot where Logan had pointed on his chest and swung.

It was a horrible attempt. She could tell in mid-action, half a second after she swung, that she was about to embarrass herself. She stifled a yelp when her knuckles made contact with solid flesh. She felt all the joints in her fingers pop at once under the force and pain buzzed through her hand. Logan laughed at her reaction when she yanked her hand back and cradled it against her chest. Anna made it look effortless.

"Not bad," Logan remarked, not at all effected by her punch. "Men are a little thicker, though. More muscle, so you'll need to use more force. Try again, and this time, throw your whole body into it."

She tried again, but received a similar result. Logan made her do it again a couple more times until he finally had her stop. He started by telling her what she was doing wrong and she listened studiously as she rubbed her now aching hand. They worked on her stance. He showed her how to place her feet while standing behind her, guiding her body in the way it needed to move. He showed her how she could increase the force behind her punch by pushing off her back foot on the discharge and twisting her hips when she struck, reminding her to keep her arm straight with her elbow locked. He had her repeat the motion and throw a few punches at the air for practice until she grew familiar enough with the movements. He then directed her to try hitting him again.

Feeling more confident, Elsa cocked back her fist and struck, only to be thrown off guard when Logan snatched it in mid-swing and moved under her arm. Before she knew it, she was laying flat on her back with the wind knocked out of her. A cloud of dirt puffed up around her and she coughed, both from the dust and the sudden impact with the ground. It didn't really hurt, but it did leave her stunned, staring up at the sky in bewilderment until Logan came into view. He smirked down at her and she returned it with a glare.

"What? I wasn't going to just stand there and get punched in the chest. Who would do that?"

"You're such a jerk," she snapped. "Are you going to let me do this, or are you just going to toss me around?"

"Nah, I think you got the gist of it. We'll move on to something else."

He held out his hand to help her up and laughed when she glared at him again.

"Come on, that didn't hurt. If anything, think of it as a compliment. I obviously thought you had enough moxie in your punch for it to actually hurt, so I moved."

"Oh, I'm so sure that's why you did it." She rolled her eyes, sitting up.

"Well, I didn't do it just for a lark. We improved your stance and your technique, but your opponent isn't going to just stand there like I did. There was still a lot that you were leaving open."

"Then why didn't you say anything?" she asked, annoyance still evident in her tone.

He shrugged his shoulders.

Elsa let out an angry huff before looking down at her skirt. She mumbled under her breath as she fussed over the maroon fabric, absently noting how it was a miracle that the cloth was still in one piece after everything it had been through. She glanced back up at Logan to find him watching her. Her brow furrowed and her mouth twisted in a near pout as she still sat on the ground.

"Fine, be like that. I suppose it doesn't matter anyways. I'm going to be put through the ringer regardless of how you do it because I'm on the disadvantage in pretty much every way there is," she muttered, her fingers toying with the frayed ends of her skirt. She looked back up at him, almost accusingly. "Is this where you lecture me about women being weaker than men?"

Logan held out his hand again and smiled when she accepted it.

"Nope," he said as he pulled her to her feet. "That would be rather counterproductive. Why would I lecture you on something that isn't true? Women can be just as strong as men. The ability to fight isn't biological. It comes through practice, determination and strength of will. It doesn't matter how small you are or what your gender is, with the right technique and know-how, you can take down just about anybody."

"Even me?" Elsa asked, brushing the dirt off her clothes.

She sounded skeptical. Logan wasn't all that big, smaller than Kristoff by a substantial amount of weight, with a long torso and wiry build, but her arms still looked like twigs compared to his. She could see how he might overcome the disadvantage of going against a bigger enemy, but she didn't see how she could. She had never been taught how to fight. She had never seen another woman fight either, except for back on the ship with Carson going against Joaquin, but Carson was a swashbuckling, pseudo pirate that masqueraded as a man, so Elsa assumed it only came with the territory. She knew that women could fight, and _did_ fight, someplace, somewhere. She had just never met one.

"Even you," Logan nodded. "Don't short-sell yourself, Elsa. Your inexperience and size are disadvantages, but your gender doesn't have to be, too. Women have tons of fighting advantages that men don't. Contrary to popular belief, the strength behind a punch doesn't come from your arms. It comes from your hips. Women have wider hips than men, so it stands to reason that women can punch harder than men, if they learn how to do it right. Granted, muscles will give your opponent extra padding, but you don't have to be ripped to put up a good fight. You just have to be smart."

Elsa listened as Logan launched into a full explanation of what he meant. As he spoke, he gestured with his hands. She had always known that he had the tendency to talk with his hands, but just how much was never apparent until he talked for an expended period. It made him more expressive and it was interesting to watch. She felt it kept her attention better.

"Women have a lower center of gravity. Do you know what that means?"

Elsa shook her head.

"The lower a person's center of gravity is, the closer they are to the ground, and the closer they are to the ground the better stability they have, and that's what will make it harder for them to be knocked down. This is definitely an advantage, especially if your opponent is bigger than you. He'll have brute strength and force, but you'll have speed and agility."

"That's how you fight, right?"

"Yes. Glad you noticed. When Barley taught me how to fight, he knew I wouldn't be able to go head on with certain opponents because I wasn't as big as they were. I was also still very young at the time, too. I'm tall, so my center of gravity is average for a male, but I'm not overly broad, so he taught me other ways to fight using my lighter weight and flexibility to make up for my disadvantages. Getting injured also wouldn't do well for me, for obvious reasons, so the only way to minimize my health disadvantage was to learn how to be harder to hit."

He went on to tell her about his experiences with his old mentor, Barley, and all the things he had learned. Barley had spared no detail on the intricate art of war and battle from all perspectives, both defense and offense, fighter and opponent, champion versus rookie, and naturally, male against female.

Logan had been like the majority when he had first learned how to fight, thinking that men were the fighters and that they were stronger than women on the battlefield. Of course, he didn't think that because he believed that men were in any way superior to women. Like Elsa, he had just never been exposed to women fighters before. He respected women, something he attributed to being raised solely by his mother and being surrounded by mostly women. She had worked in a midwifery where he had grown up witnessing firsthand just how tough women could be.

Barley believed in equal opportunity, though, and would never be so stupid as to underestimate any opponent just because they were female. It could get you killed. Barley didn't get where he had been in life by underestimating _anybody, _and he made sure Logan wouldn't either_._

First things first, popular belief went completely out the window. It was useless, anyways. Women were naturally more resistant to pain and fatigue than men. They had a greater potential for stamina, and could fight harder for longer. Women lived in a different world from men. It didn't take a genius to figure that out, only an ignorant prick to deny it. With all the potential dangers that women faced everyday, just for being the way they were, it was ridiculous that teaching them self-defense wasn't more widespread. Women were more prone to having uninstigated acts of violence done to them. It was a harsh reality, but one that nobody seemed proactive about helping prevent. They were expected to stay behind the line and wait for men to protect them.

And if a capable woman did happen to surface somewhere, she was often ridiculed and ostracized for it. A prime example of that was Carson. She had a bigger set of balls than the saltiest sea captains in all of the North Sea, and yet she had to dress like a man just to keep a ship that was rightfully hers.

Logan had Elsa step forward again. He painted a scenario of them alone in an alley at night, with Elsa, unarmed, being approached by Logan; a stranger looking to cause her harm. He reached out and grabbed her forearm. He instructed the blonde to try and pull away. When she couldn't, he showed her how to break his grip by flattening her hand and twisting it around so she could press down on his wrist; a more effective way to break a grip. They practiced the move at a leaner's pace a couple times before taking it up a notch with Logan reaching out faster than before and grabbing her arm tighter. It took her a couple tries, but she was able to perform the move at a pace that a real attack would be.

He showed her another grip which was a strangulation move by her attacker where he would wrap his hands around her neck from behind. The break was easy enough, turning herself around to face her attacker and going at his face with her hands instead of struggling forward.

A lot of what he was showing her was what NOT to do in certain situations, and it was really useful. Her instincts would have had her doing exactly what he warned against.

They moved on to different places on the human body where Elsa could use her new punching skills. He told her the pros and cons of each and which ones were the most effective; the nose and eyes, the neck, the solar plexus (if you can manage to hit it. Hard to do, but very effective), the liver and kidneys, the groin (obviously) and the knees. They were all areas that could be used to discombobulate or throw an opponent off-balance enough to escape.

Elsa listened and absorbed everything he said, enthralled, and replied when he prompted her to.

"Don't try to put any flare behind this," Logan warned, pulling her attention back to his face. "Your one and only goal is to get your attacker far enough away from you so you can run. Don't get cocky and put yourself in more danger than you already are."

He could tell that Elsa wanted to roll her eyes, but she kept whatever comment she had to herself. Ever the people-pleaser.

He was feeling really good about this, though. She followed instructions better than he had expected and she was catching on quick. No surprise there, really. Elsa was an intelligent woman. She could be a force to be reckoned with even without her powers if she just learned how to use the one weapon she always had at her disposal; her body.

It was a trip, doing this teaching thing again. It all reminded him of one of his old clan mates. He thought back on the one and only female member that Barley's clan ever had. A french gypsy named, Antoinette.

She had been a tough woman with dark skin covered in tattoos of her heritage and a set of abs that would make a sailor jealous. Logan could say with complete honesty that she terrified him. He had sparred at least once with everyone in their clan except for Antoinette. She was brutal in the sparring ring, all swift dodges and ruthless takedowns. Though she had been kind to him, Logan never doubted that the Romani woman could throw him across a room with one arm if he pissed her off enough.

He didn't see Elsa bench-pressing twice her weight or developing a killer six-pack any time soon, but something about her, in this moment, just reminded him of Antoinette.

Maybe it was the endless drive that they both had for their goals. Antoinette was as hard as rock, but she was always looking for ways to better herself. Most notably, she had the strength and skill in combat, but being from a nomadic gypsy _groupe_, she hadn't been very educated. She had asked Logan to teach her how to read and write. It couldn't have been easy for her to do it, either. She had been twice his age, but Logan was the most educated member in the clan behind Barley and Dag, and she had been too embarrassed to go to anyone else.

It had been difficult for her to learn, and for Logan to teach her. It took them almost three weeks just to cover the alphabet. But they both knew it was worth the effort when Antoinette wrote her name out for the first time in messy, but correct, handwriting. It amazed him how proud of her he had been.

Elsa was the opposite in that regard, an overabundance in knowledge but lacking in physical skill, but they came from the same place. That was why he had agreed to this. It had been worth it then, with Antoinette, and he knew it would be worth it now with Elsa.

Antoinette was there before Logan had joined the clan, and incidentally she had been the first to take off after Barley died. Most of the men speculated that she had gone to join a rival gang, while others believed that she had enlisted in some foreign army, or had taken a voyage to some far place, like one of the Americas. The truth had been more mundane. She had found out that she was pregnant not long after Barley's death and had confided in Logan that she wanted to track down her original gypsy _groupe_ and raise the baby with her _famille_. Depending on who you asked, it wasn't as exciting as the crazy rumors, but he had wished her the best all the same. She was the only person from his time as a bandit he would call a friend.

In a passing thought, Logan hoped that Antoinette was doing okay. Wherever that buff goddess was.

"Okay, now I'm going to show you how to escape different holds. This requires me to be a little more in your personal space, but just bare with me and try to stay relaxed. We're trying to construct realistic scenarios here so you can get a better feel for these moves, so you can't tense up. If someone attacks you, you're not going to be tense. Your attacker won't always give you the opportunity to anticipate their actions."

Logan stepped close to Elsa from behind. She could feel the heat of him against her back and she tensed up when his arms wrapped around hers. His breath tickled her ear as he reminded her to relax. He briefly considered apologizing for his close proximity, but then figured that in a real fight, her opponent wouldn't care about her comfort, and that this was as authentic as it would get.

"You'll always know an amateur by the way he grabs you. If your attacker doesn't know what he's doing, he'll grab you like this," he pulled her into a tight bear hug, "if he grabs you like this, you can easily break his hold by dropping down on to one knee. Doing one will allow you to push off into a run when you drop. You'll stall too long if you do both knees. It'll give him the chance to grab you again. "

Elsa did as he instructed, but she was too slow on the drop and he tightened his grip, stopping her at her chin. He said that as soon as her attacker felt her trying to escape, he would tighten his grip. She needed to be quicker and use her hands to push his arms up while she dropped. She let out a huff at that, finally catching on to his game. He was purposely leaving out those little tidbits so he could correct her, wasn't he?

_'Oh how tricky of you_,' she thought, annoyed by his underhanded tactics. She didn't feel it was worth calling him out on, though.

They took it slow, being mindful of her injured hand. When she went to push off into a run, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back when she didn't move fast enough. It took her three tries, but on the third she successfully slipped out of his hold and pushing off into a dash across the clearing.

Logan clapped at their progress.

"Not bad, young grasshopper," he smirked.

Elsa gave a small curtsy in gratitude.

"Why thank you."

He gestured for her to come back and resume the position with her standing in front. She didn't tense up this time when he wrapped his arms around her again. He pulled her arms back and crisscrossed them over her chest with his hands gripping her wrists.

"Alright, here's a trickier hold to get out of. This is what your attacker is going to use if he does know what he's doing. When you're caught in a hold where your arms are more confined and you can't use your hands or elbows, the next best thing is to use your heel. Angle your heel upwards and try to hit the areas I showed you earlier; the shin, the knee and the ankle. You'll have a better chance of breaking something."

"Do you want me to actually stomp on your foot, or just pretend?"

"No, no pretending. Just do your best to aim for it. I'll move it out of the way."

They had established a routine. Logan would instruct Elsa and she would try her best to emulate. They would practice the new move slowly at first and then they would take it up a notch with Logan performing the attack at a faster pace, moving to restrain her just as an attacker would and leaving it to Elsa to remember what to do. It made her nervous when he pretended to attack, but she liked that he didn't coddle her. He was gentle when it came to her injured hand, but that was it. Once she got the technique down, he came at her with little restraint, only holding back a little so she could show what she had learned.

"If you ever have your hands free, use them. Go for the places I told you and show no mercy. Nothing is fair or unfair when you're fighting for your life and you do whatever it takes to keep him away. Claw out his goddamn eyes if you have to."

Elsa nodded, grimacing at the imagery.

With any luck, she wouldn't have to dig her nails into anyone's eye-sockets, but it was strangely comforting that she now knew how to, should the need arise.

All self-doubt and anxiety had drained away through the course of their lesson and hours had gone by before Elsa even noticed. They worked through the techniques with patience, respect for each other's personal space and even a healthy amount of humor. The queen would even dare to say that she was having fun.

The tension only came back when the ex-bandit raised the ante and pulled his hunting knife out.

"Don't freak out," he said, seeing the color drain from her face. "This is going be another hold, but this time I'm going to show you what to do if someone has a knife to your throat."

She eyed his knife when he motioned for her to turn her back.

This was the real test of faith. Stepping into someone's personal space to show them a few fighting moves was one thing, but Elsa was going to have a knife pressed against her throat. Logan was going to restrain her arms and put a weapon against a very vulnerable part of her body.

Instead of taking the initiative and stepping behind her, Logan waited until Elsa turned on her own. If they were going to do this, then he needed her to be completely willing. He wasn't a rookie at handling blades, but their lesson could go very bad if Elsa panicked while he had her in a hold. She could move the wrong way and make his grip on the knife shift, and with the blade being so close to her neck, half an inch could make all the difference.

Logan felt proud when she turned her back and allowed him to wrap his arms around her again. Their bodies were close enough to where he could feel her tense up when he carefully placed his knife against her trachea. She shivered at the cold press of sharp steel against the delicate skin of her neck, but when Logan squeezed her arm reassuringly with his other hand, she forced herself to relax and stay as still as possible.

"Again, you'll always know an amateur. If he's skilled at handling knives, he'll hold it right up against your throat, close enough to where one wrong move could mean the end. The only thing you can do if this is the case is do what he says and wait for an opportunity to escape. One of the biggest advantages women have in fighting is the element of surprise. People are going to underestimate you. You can easily throw your attacker off guard once he thinks he's established total control. You can even employ a little acting to get his confidence up. You know, fake tears and some woeful sobs to make him think you're at his mercy. That crap is gold."

She made a noise of understanding, afraid to speak or nod her head.

"If he's an amateur, he'll hold the knife away from your neck like this and all you have to do is the same thing I showed before, drop down and push his arms-"

Elsa dropped down and was out of his hold before he could even finish his sentence, dashing out of swiping distance on dainty feet.

"Like that?" she asked with mock innocence when she all but twirled around to look at him. She couldn't hide the smugness that peppered her tone.

Logan scoffed, his knife still hanging in the air where she had once been. "Show off."

They started back at the beginning and went through all the techniques again. He did very little instructing this time, expecting Elsa to remember what she learned and perform the techniques without help. Luckily, she had a good memory and she remembered enough to keep up.

They moved so easily together that it was almost like a dance. Feet placement seemed to become counted steps in a slow waltz and drops became dips when Logan's hands lingered than they were supposed to, as if reluctant to sever the touch entirely. The reset at the end of every technique was done flawlessly and without prompt. With the grips and holds where Logan stood behind her, Elsa took his hand and allowed him to almost twirl her into step. They became a unified pair, extensions of themselves in the flow of practiced movement. They remained hyper aware of the each other's bodies throughout, both failing to put the knowledge of their proximity completely out of their minds.

At some point they had stopped moving without realizing. Logan stood behind Elsa in their standard formation for holds, but instead of wrapping his arms around hers in mock aggression, his hands rested on her hips, miles away from where they should have been. She could feel the heat of his palms through the fabric of her skirt while his fingers were a heavy presence that be couldn't ignored. His chest was pressed into her back closer than what was probably necessary, but neither moved.

She remembered the way he had taken care of her hand, how gentle he had been as he set the bones and wrapped them in a splint from the first-aid kit they had purchased in a market. They didn't have any money. The only thing they had on them worth something was Elsa's ornate dagger, so they had to trade that. The queen was sad to see it go, but it was worth it to be able to treat her wound.

His hands swept along her skin with a whisper of pressure, as if he could heal her fingers with nothing but a touch. It hurt to have the bones set, but his soft reassurances kept her calm as he worked.

Without thinking about it, the queen relaxed into hold as Logan's scent filled her senses, not fully comprehending what she was doing. At this point she was almost drunk on it. Having him so close, it was impossible to ignore. Ever since they had embraced in that alley, she had cataloged the smell in a place somewhere in her mind that always made her feel safe and warm, a place she often associated with the view of her kingdom from her study and her sister's laugh while the noises of the forest around them lulled her into state of dazed calmness. Her chest heaved in a sigh, feeling a burst of fondness and gratitude for having Logan here with her, helping her in ways she never expected him to. It was winter and the air should have been crisp, but it felt heavy in her lungs like humidity, making her almost lightheaded.

With the heated, blood-filled cavity pressed against her spine, the queen realized that she was a woman, and that the steady breathing person behind her was a man. She felt a blush flood her cheeks at the thought while her throat tightened and her stomach twisted in a way she didn't understand. Her own hands had moved of their own accord and now rested on top of Logan's. He was deathly silent behind her as his breath ghosted over her shoulder and tickled her collarbone.

The building tension finally made itself known to her and it became too much, pushing Elsa to finally turn her head to look back at Logan. He had his head lowered so close to hers that their cheeks brushed when she did. Their eyes connected in the same moment and the air was sucked from her lungs as something almost tangible seemed to pass between them. It lasted only a second, but the sensation of it was already engraved in her mind, next to the spot where she kept her name and somehow standing out with sharper clarity.

While time slowed down for her her, the hint of skin on skin contact seemed to shock Logan out of whatever trance he had fallen into. He sucked in a breath as he came back to the present and he stepped back, releasing her in one move. His sudden reaction almost made Elsa lose her balance as the support against her back disappeared and she was left to stand on her own. She felt dazed, unsure what had just transpired. But before she could look at Logan for guidance, he was already walking away.

"Let's take a break," he said.

"But-"

She had lost him, though. He was already on the other side of the clearing, going through their pitiful sack of supplies in his usual method of deflection.

Elsa slowly joined him back in the present and she felt another blush heat up face as she thought about what just happened. A patch of glittering frost blossomed from beneath her boots and made a circle around her, coating the grass. She didn't know what _that_ was, but it made her feel weird. It also made Logan push her away which added to the effect by making her feel oddly rejected, and then confused about _why_ she felt rejected. It was like getting a shot of magic brain-numbing juice that felt hot and pleasant but with a comedown of confusion and stupidity.

Before she could brave a question, Logan pulled out what little they had for food and told her to eat something. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to scream or scuff.

They picked back up their lessons after a meager late lunch of jerky and stale bread and a very awkward silence.

For several minutes they just sat on the ground, picking at the crumbs of their lunch while avoiding eye contact. It wasn't until he realized the ridiculousness of it all, that Logan let out sigh and finally turned to look at Elsa.

He had one more thing planned to show her, but after what happened, he really wasn't feeling up to it. It would only make what _that_ was, worse. All he wanted to do now was set up camp and lick his wounds. But incidentally, this last thing was, without a doubt, the most important thing he had to show her. If something bad happened to her and she didn't know how to defend herself because he was too embarrassed to teach her, he would never forgive himself.

"Since we're down here, I figure I should show you one last thing before we start setting up camp. Not going to lie, this last thing I'm going to show you is going to be really awkward."

"Hasn't this already been awkward?"

"Yeah, but not this awkward."

"How could it possibly get _more_ awkward?"

He gave her pained look before he instructed her to lay back against the grass with her knees bent up. She did it without complaint, but her face grew hot and her stomach twisted as she realized that this was going to be another hold lesson, but this time she would be pinned against the ground with Logan, presumably, on top of her in some fashion.

"You can probably guess where this is going so I apologize in advance for the intimate touch," he said, preemptively.

He wasn't lying. It was an awkward position. They both did their best to ignore just how awkward as Logan moved close to her. He positioned himself on his knees and scooted closer to Elsa's legs so that the front of his thighs were pressed flush against the back of hers with his knees on either side of her body. It forced her legs open and apart so they were bracketing Logan's waist. Her skirt bunched up around her knees.

'_Oh my lord_,' Elsa thought, her face burning red like a tomato as she laid flat on her back, staring up at the sky.

She was at a loss of what to do with her hands. Logan didn't tell her yet what she was supposed to do with them. God, this was awkward. Scandalous. She would curl up and die if anybody back home found out about this. If she thought that Logan standing close behind her with his hands on her hips was inappropriate, then she could only imagine the sordid innuendos one could attach to this situation.

She opted to keep her hands at her sides, laying on the ground like a plank of wood. It was either that or give into the urge to rest them somewhere on Logan.

"Now, this is the typical position a man is going to be in if he aims to-" he coughed uncomfortably "-ruin you before he kills you."

"Ruin me?"

He gave her a pointed look.

"Oh."

He was talking about rape. This wasn't just a lesson on how to get out of another hold, or how to break a strangulation grip. This was how to escape someone who intended to violate her in the most devastating of ways. The awkwardness of the situation dissipated and was replaced by something overwhelmingly more serious. Elsa's breathing hitched and her nerves were set on edge.

"The first thing you're going to do is brace your hands against my shoulders when I lean down to push my torso on you."

He showed her how to stop him from fully putting his weight on her by bracing her hands against his shoulders and holding him at bay. He instructed to keep her arms straight with her elbows locked, otherwise he could overpower her by pushing down hard enough. If she kept her elbows locked, then it didn't matter that he was bigger than her, she could still keep him up and off of her. He then showed her how to slip out from underneath him by turning her body to the side and pulling her legs up one at a time to rest on his hips.

"That's it," he said as they practiced. He could feel Elsa's boots against his hips as she tried out the movements of the technique. "One at a time. And while you're doing this, you'll need to bring your hands down and grip my forearms. Once I, the attacker, realize that you're doing something completely unexpected, I'm going to try to pull away, and then that's when you grip my wrists."

The finishing move was to bring her legs up with her hands keeping him in place by his wrists and pretend to kick him in his exposed front until he was knocked down and she could escape.

It was a difficult technique to perform, especially in a long skirt, and it took her longer to get the hang of. She understood the mechanics behind the maneuver, but she was still intimidated by the purpose of the technique. Even though Logan always kept his hands in sight and told her ahead of time when he was about to move, she still felt panicked being under him like that with the scenario of such an assault playing in her head.

As they practiced, the embarrassment was pushed to the side where it wasn't acknowledged again. Having Logan perch on top of her wasn't like the oddly intense moment they had shared before. Logan was nothing short of a professional, and the way he handled her and the awkwardness of this intrusive technique reflected that.

They went through the technique a couple more times, but she still didn't have it completely down by the time they stopped. Logan told her not to worry about it, that they would practice more another day. As long as she knew how the technique was performed, she'd be surprised how much she could recall in detail when the situation called for it. Logan had confidence in Elsa and her instincts. If the blonde found herself facing an attack like that (which would have to be after Logan's agonizing death because otherwise he would break the legs of _anyone_ who tried to hurt Elsa), she would know what to do.

Now that the techniques were taught, Logan decided to put Elsa to the test by basically playing hide-and-seek with her. He would give her five minutes to run into the forest before he would come looking for her and pretend to attack her. It started at as a serious exercise, but there might have been a moment or two where Logan toyed with her, grabbing her around the middle in a harmless hold and pulling a scream from her that sounded suspiciously more like laughter than terror, or Elsa trying to cheat by using her ice powers. She iced the ground in front of him more than once and he fell on his ass. He got back at her by flipping her on to her back again.

It wasn't until almost nightfall that they finally stopped. They collapsed back on the grass, breathless from running around the forest like a pair of lunatics. Logan internally remarks how familiar this situation was to him, laying next to a beautiful woman after expelling an insane amount of energy together. Ironically though, it was only when he was fully clothed, laying on the forest floor instead of a bed, staring up at the sky instead of a ceiling in an inn, that he felt truly intimate with the person he was laying next to.

"That was good," he praised, once he caught his breath. His voice came out sounding a little hoarse, stilling hurting from when she had accidentally chopped him in the throat when he jumped down from a tree and scared her.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. If you keep on like that, you'll be kicking ass in no time," he smirked at her. "Next time we go through a town, we'll find some opium den dwellers and I'll show you the most effective way to kick a guy in the balls."

"Oh, that'll be...nice, I guess. Why dwellers?"

"Who else do you suggest we kick in the balls? Constables? Come on, Sugar, pace yourself. You gotta learn to walk before you can run. And hey, if we have time, I'll even teach you how to swear."

"What'll that help?"

"Absolutely nothing, but it'll make you sound cool."

~O~

They sat in the heart of their little campsite with a pile of sticks and dry leaves collected on the ground between them.

Dusk had settled and the world was bathed in a soft light, allotting them just enough time to build their fire before night completely took over. The sky would be full of stars tonight, but the new moon would hang above them like a ghost.

Elsa sat with her legs tucked under her as she watched Logan set up their final lesson. She had twigs in her hair, aches in her arms and legs, dirt underneath her fingernails, and yet she had never felt so comfortable. The ex-bandit sat across from her on his knees, his mouth set in a line of concentration as he determined which way the wind was blowing before bending over to fiddle with their firewood again. Elsa waited patiently, trying not to roll her eyes at his perfectionism. He arranged the pile into a structure that resembled a little tent.

There were a couple of ways he could have arranged the kindling, but this was his preferred method. The key was to leave enough space to allow air to pass through, otherwise you could smother the flame before it could even properly ignite. He could feel Elsa's eyes on him and the judgment she had for him being so meticulous, but money was tight and he'd rather not waste an entire box of matches when the whole point of this was to show her how to start a fire with just one.

When Logan finally got the kindling how he wanted, he reached behind him and grabbed their box of matches. Elsa sat up straighter, relieved that they were ready to start. She was interested in finally seeing how this was done. She knew since the beginning that Logan could start a fire with just one match, but she had never gotten to see him do it up close. He always shooed her away when she tried, complaining that he couldn't concentrate with her breathing down his neck.

He pulled a match from the box and without warning tossed it at Elsa. The queen started as the match bounced off her chest and she scrambled to catch it.

"Here," he said, handing her the box, "if you insist on learning this then you do it."

She frowned at him and snatched the box away, making him laugh.

"Jesus, with the way you're looking at me, you won't need a match."

"Shut up," she grumbled, pulling the box into her lap.

She held the match between her pointer finger and thumb and went to light it, but before she could strike it on the side of the box, Logan reached out for her hand. She jerked away from him, but he was too fast. He gripped her wrist.

"I can do it!" she snapped.

He only gave her a trying look before stealing the match from between her fingers.

"Like this," he said, curling his fingers around hers.

He gently turned her hand over and coaxed her fingers inwards, creating a cup with her hand. Elsa watched as he tucked the match between the crux of her pointer and middle finger with the little red head facing in. His eyes locked on to hers when released her hand, instructing her to keep still as his hand disappeared down out of the queen's view. The was a distinct snap a second a later that made her jump before she felt warmth pooled in her hand and the space between her and Logan lit up. She looked down at the match between her fingers and saw a little orange flame dancing in her hand.

She looked back up at Logan with a surprised smile and he gave her a goodhearted smirk.

The light of the match glowed between them, engulfing his face. Elsa blinked at the dark planes of his cheekbones. His hair was a color halfway between black and brown, with the match light betraying its natural brown coloring where the darkness tried to portray it as solid black. It was brushed back out of his face with a few free strands escaping to hang against his forehead, falling in front of his eyes in an endearing way.

In the dying light of the day, his eyes had changed. They were more intense with the small flame in her palm highlighting the convoluted color. Hazel, the most complex of irises. A kaleidoscope of brown, amber and green, void of any pattern or solidarity.

Logan studied her just as closely. Elsa found her heart thumping hard behind her ribs when his eyes shifted down from hers and went to her mouth. She licked her lips self-consciously, making her aware of how dry they were. His eyes followed, and his easy, laid back posture fell away and he suddenly looked poised, ready to strike. The tension between them was thick, thicker than it had been before and Elsa absently wondered how they had fallen into this again. The feeling was back in her stomach, the one that made her feel hot and pleasant but also confused and stupid.

Neither of them seemed to realize that the space between them was closing, or that the light in Elsa's hand was dimming. Logan leaned in towards her just as a searing pain ripped through her finger.

"Ow!" She jerked back and threw the offending match out of her hand, snuffing the flame.

There was a small red spot on her pointer finger where the match had burned her when she wasn't paying attention. She prodded at the burn with her thumb and winced at the sting. Without thinking, she put the digit into her mouth and let her powers cool the burn until it stopped hurting.

As she did that, she looked back at Logan. Their eyes met and something embarrassing passed between them that had the pair turning their eyes away to look at anything else besides each other. Elsa chose the match on the ground, glaring at it for biting her and ruining their lesson.

"So," Logan said, clearing his throat against the awkward tension. "What's that, magic spit?"

Elsa took the finger from her mouth.

"No, it's just something I do when I get papercuts or burns. It helps soothes the pain."

"So magic spit, then."

She let out a frustrated noise and rolled her eyes. Logan chuckled impishly to himself as he pulled out another match from the box and lit it. He cupped his hand and leaned down to spark up the foliage. When the flame spread enough to shake out the match, he sat back on his ankles and watched as their little fire pit began to smoke.

* * *

**AN: For those of you who are curious, these are actual self defense maneuvers I featured in this chapter. I glossed over the full procedure of some of them because I didn't want this chapter to read like a pamphlet, but if you want to see what I was talking about there's a link on my FanFic account to my Tumblr where I got my references. I realize that most of these are probably too modern to be historically accurate for Frozen's time period, especially the woman's self defense moves, but if you can't employ artistic license to allow Elsa to defend herself, than when can you?**

**Also, a "guest" reviewer from chapter eighteen requested that I have Logan and Elsa dance, which wasn't a bad idea, but there wasn't much opportunity to make them do so in the chapters following chapter eighteen, so I sort of incorporated that into this chapter. People often describe fighting as a type of dance - you know, if you want to be poetic about it. Maybe I can fit a dancing scene at the end of the story, though. We'll have to see.**

**~Scorpiofreak~**


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